


New Horizons

by CarelessHux (AraSigyrn)



Series: Points of Convergence [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Brendol Hux's A+ Parenting, F/M, Fix-It, Fuck the Empire, Gen, M/M, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Redemption!AU, violence against a child
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-04 17:35:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 40,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25290232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AraSigyrn/pseuds/CarelessHux
Summary: Love someone enough and you might just save the Galaxy.Save the Galaxy and the people you saved might just want to save you right back.
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Series: Points of Convergence [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1832140
Comments: 54
Kudos: 100





	1. Prologue: Before Endor

Ganthel is a liminal planet, although Rae Sloane will not learn the word 'liminal' until she leaves the rotting shell of her home planet far behind her. The settlements cling to the space ports like fungus on an ill-maintained water pipe. She does not belong here. A fact that becomes more obvious as time goes on. Rae is loved in a distant, faintly baffled way by parents who are more concerned with the daily grind of survival than raising their daughter.

Rae learns that the only good thing about Ganthel is the ships that pass through. It is an easy leap for a child's mind to assume that the only way to escape the swamp of Ganthel is to find a ship. There are stories, told by adults to other adults, of those who stole away from Ganthel and found adventure and prosperity. Rae learns her letters and the basics of arithmetic from old Karagone whose three daughters send credits every quarter-cycle.

She is methodical, even as a child. She gathers her information, hoards the small number of credits that she can accumulate and packs the datapad that she reconstructed from the discards of a dozen different ships. She slips out of her parents' house while her mother is at work and her father is snoring in the bedroom. She does not leave a note. Rae plans to send a message once she has found her new place.

It is only her pride that brings her into the docks proper. Rae starts having doubts almost as soon as she turns the corner and cannot see her home over her shoulder. She still does not think that her parents would miss her, still enough of a child to mistake exhaustion for indifference. She did not expect to miss them and tries to squash the unease in her belly that grows with every step. The ships are bigger than she expects. Louder and dirtier too. She evades the security with ease and hunkers down between two crates of kelerium to think. It is late enough that the loading is proceeding slowly and she has time to reconsider.

Rae is turning to look at the way she came when she hears a low chuckle. It is a very unpleasant sound. Rae had brought a knife but like a fool, she'd put in the bag hanging from her shoulder. She doesn't see the details of the two thugs who corner her; they tower over her, cutting off the light.

Rae fights, even knowing that she cannot hope to win. They overpower her easily and the decking cuts into her cheek as they force her down.

She's cursing at them when someone else charges into the confined space. They take her attackers by surprise. Rae doesn't see much of the fight, arms still tied behind her back and too-large bodies blocking the light. She hears one of her attackers scream or at least try to, the sound doesn't escape the crowded little nook before they hit the decking hard enough that Rae bounces a little in place. The other one starts cursing at their attacker, every word shriller than the last.

They land on their companion, landing even heavier than the first. Rae hears their attacker breathing heavily but she can't see them, hair straggling over her face.

"I can get you loose," the attacker doesn't sound more than breathless. "I will free you if you promise not to attack me."

Rae doesn't trust him but she's powerless. Even if she wasn't tied up like this, he took down both of her attackers like they were nothing. "Fine."

"Very well," he bends over her and her arms are free. She shoves herself upright as fast as she can manage and stares distrustfully at him. He's human, pale as a life-time spacer with fiery red hair. He doesn't _look_ like station security. Rae's never seen him before. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine." She watches him warily. The two unconscious, maybe dead?, thugs are blocking her escape. "Why did you help me?"

"You were in danger," he follows her brief glance to the side and actually moves out of her way. 

"So?"

"So you required my help," he folds his arms and tilts his head in a way that reminds her a little of her mother. 

"What do you want from me?"

"Be more careful," he says placidly. "You are an important woman, Rae Sloane, but the Galaxy is a dangerous place."

"How do you know my name?" she demands and very nearly stamps her feet at the smile he ducks his head to hide.

"It doesn't matter," he says and Rae glares at him.

"Well, what's your name then!?"

That banishes the smile and he hesitates. He looks down at her and Rae can't read his expression. "I could tell you that it doesn't matter either but I doubt that would satisfy you. Fine. Call me Red."

"That's not a name," Rae says with all the scorn of a child.

"I would tell you to take it up with the man who gave it to me," he shakes his head. "No. I wouldn't wish that on either of you."

"I don't understand," she folds her arms tightly across her chest.

"It doesn't matter," he looks out over the dock. "You should go, if you don't intend to board the ship. The loader droids will sound the alarm as soon as they find the bodies."

Rae does stamp a foot at that, irritation boiling up into rage. She's not a fool though and she can hear the solid clank of nearby crates being scooped up. She slips past him, half expecting him to grab her but Red lets her pass unmolested. A nagging sense of propriety stops her at the edge of her little hiding place.

"Thank you...Red," she says.

"It was my honour," he says. It's such an archaic turn of phrase that it should sound like a joke but there's a sincerity in how he says it that leaves her feeling entirely wrong-footed. Then she sees an astromech rounding the corner and she runs. She's ducking under the decrepit security fence when the alarms sound and safely at home before anyone thinks to look past the two bodies.

Rae is displacing her residual adrenaline into scrubbing the kitchen when her mother comes home in a rush of stale sweat and fresh panic. She sweeps Rae up in her arms and weeps all oveer her. Rae, thoroughly bewildered, struggles to understand what she is saying. She gathers the main points between her mother's weeping and her father's confusion. Two members of Kotaska, killed like vermin and left for anyone to find.

The gang is furious, ripping up the streets and the foolish souls who venture out for a week. Rae hears about it all from other people because it takes that whole week to convince herself that they don't know she was involved. Her first walk outside is nerve-wracking but even the heavily scarred toughs loitering around the cantina don't look twice at her.

In time, the story fades but Rae remembers.

* * *

Terrinald Screed stands in front of the mirror, adjusting his new rank stripes. _Admiral Screed,_ he thinks with considerable pride. He had worried that the whole affair with Rancit had stalled his career but the Emperor, all honours to him, had seen Screed's true worth even in the face of such a cunning traitor. He had elevated Screed by his own hand, no less!

Admiral Screed finishes the last of the finicky adjustments and regards his reflection with a deep sense of satisfaction.

He still has twenty minutes before he has to present himself and Screed takes the time to check over his available files. He sorts the newest intelligence in order of plausibility and goes out into the corridor. The _Prepotency_ is a silent ship. Even the black-armoured troopers make no sounds as they march past, each an interchangeable cog in the ship's efficient machinery.

The _Prepotency_ is the Emperor's private Star Destroyer. Even with his promotion, Screed only knows about it because the Emperor has elected to inform him. A man as powerful as the Emperor has enemies after all, Screed is far from a starry-eyed ingenuine. He knows that there are as many threats to his Emperor from within Imperial ranks as there are without.

Vader, for one and even the thought of that mechanical monster tenses his muscles. Screed respects the man's power and the potency of his fighting abilities but he deplores the arrogance and ill-discipline that accompanies them. Vader is reckless and reckless men are a danger to all those around them. Screed is not afraid of Vader but he is cautious. Vader's tantrums have ended more promising young officers than the Rebellion could dream of and Screed despises needless waste of Imperial resources.

He arrives at the audience chamber with eight minutes to spare and settles into a parade rest. His heart rate is elevated and his mouth feels dry. Screed has never been so honoured and a part of him worries that he has overlooked some failure. He straightens as the doors slide open soundlessly and marches into the dimly lit chamber.

He advances to the mid-point of the chamber, doffs his cap and takes a knee. "Your Majesty."

"Admiral Screed," the Emperor's golden eyes shine in the gloom and the stars shine like a crown around his hooded head. The throne is modest compared to the throne on Coruscant or the more public ships. "I am pleased to see you."

"Thank you, your Majesty."

"I have called you here, Admiral Screed, because I have a very important task for you."

"It is my honour to serve," Screed dares to raise his head. "I am yours to command, your Excellency."

"Good," the Emperor purrs. He lifts a withered hand and a shadow detaches from the darkness to the left of his throne. "This task is of the highest importance, Admiral Screed and will require discretion. You will continue with your existing duties at the same time. No-one can know of this task."

"I understand, sir."

"This is Tetrox," the Emperor continues. "My most trusted inquisitor. They will be working with you on this task and they will keep all thoughts regarding this task from reaching Lord Vader."

"Yes, sir." Screed can distinguish very little; Tetrox is of average height for a human, body almost entirely obscured by the heavy black robes and face hidden by a glossy black mask that reflects the dim light. He notes the lightsabre clipped to their belt, just behind the empty holster. "I will not fail you."

"See that you do not," the Emperor says but his tone is pleased. Screed bows his head and feels his Emperor's approval like a warm cloud around him.

* * *

Sloane knows that it's bad before the nav-com screams distress. Her left thruster is venting flames and smoke into the atmosphere as her fighter spins around her. Sloane leans into the controls, cursing her flight commander. She can see the rest of her squadron; scattered and smoking. Karking statellites. She sees the ground spinning up to meet her even as she fights to level out her TIE. Then everything goes black.

She is surprised to wake.

The ground under her back is uneven, full of small pebbles that dig into tender skin and mud that squishes as she levers herself up. The first thing she sees is her TIE, what's left of it, a towering plume of smoke blocking out the watery light of the sun. One wing hangs from the fuselage. She can't see the other. The cockpit is a pit of fire and smoke. She can see the plasteel of her flight console dripping into the flames. She looks down at herself. Her helmet is gone but her flight suit seems to be intact. She aches but her fingers flex and her toes curl without additional pain.

Rae gets to her feet stiffly and looks around. Red is sitting on a rock, screwdriver in one hand and something with a bent circuit board in the other. He flicks a glance over at her. "You're awake. I didn't expect you to wake so soon."

"Did you-?" Rae looks back at the TIE, sees the signs that the fire is devouring; the drag marks, the emergency release popped and looks back. "You saved me."

"You did most of the saving," Red tells her. Rae scoffs. "At least one of your wingmen wasn't so skilled."

She can see three other plumes of smoke over his shoulder. "You didn't save them?"

"I'm only one man," Red says wryly. His gaze flicks away and down, like she rebuked him. "There are always more people to save than there are people to save them."

"But you saved me," Rae's legs wobble threateningly and she elects to sit before they fail her entirely. "Again."

Red glances at her for a second before he turns his attention back to the device he's fiddling with. He doesn't say anything. Rae stares at him. It's hard to be sure, the memory is more than a decade old now and her view of him hadn't been the best but he doesn't look like he's aged a decade.

"Who are you?" she asks at last.

"Red," he says tersely.

"I've heard a lot about Red," Rae says, watching him as closely as she can. "Strange things."

His shoulders definitely tense up. His posture is nearly perfect so it isn't obvious. Rae has a dozen lower-ranked officers who could learn from him. He still doesn't answer her. Rae watches him work. She isn't an Intelligence officer. Her words are blunt tools, not silken nooses. She can see that he does not intend to answer. Her mind is crystalline, shock shivering at the edges and she grits her teeth. He hasn't answered but there is one question that she really wants an answer to.

"The troopers..." that wins her an opaque glance, eyes more green than blue under furrowed brows. "They say that Red fell with the Republic."

He stops tinkering with the device. Breathes out. She hears the faintest shudder, not quite a sigh. He closes his eyes as he breathes in. She waits for his answer but Red just opens his eyes and bends over the device again. Rae frowns. She'd never put much credence in the tales, undoubtedly garbled by drink and endless retellings, until she sees Red hunch his shoulders as if he could escape her gaze.

They sit in silence for a minute. Rae watches the smoke billow up into the cloudy sky. Their surroundings are barren of any sign of native life. Grey earth and grey stones under a grey sky. Rae tries to see the wreckage of the other TIEs but all she can see is the distant smoke.

"There are two clones on the _Inferno_ ," she says eventually. "There were three but one of them was decommissioned."

Red winces at that. He stops his work and closes his eyes. She thinks it's grief that pinches his brows for a second before he sighs and resumes tightening screws. Rae's never seen anyone react like that to news of a clone's death. Even the other clones had just blinked, nodded and returned to their duties. Clones were only one step from droids, worthless once they ceased to function.

Everyone knew that. Didn't they?

"He was sick," Rae offers. "A fever, some planetary virus. It was painful. He was delirious. There was nothing that could be done. He would not have recovered."

"Not enough to be useful," Red corrects and there's a bitter twist to his lips.

"He might have retired," Rae tells the grey sky. Red tilts his head, listening. "But he was rambling about the mission. Hunting Rebels. Well, that's what the report said. The planet was practically deserted. Some of the Hutts's scum and a variety of other decrepits, as I understand it. No Rebels at all but he started raving that there had been. When he was reminded that they had searched the planet, he blamed you."

"Me?"

"He said that you kept them hidden," Rae says. Red's expression gives nothing away. He doesn't laugh or shrug off the accusation. She notices that. "That you could hide troopers from the most advanced battle droids the Alliance could build and hiding Rebels from humans would be easy. There was more but he didn't live long after that little outburst."

She hears the faint squeak as Red's hand tightens around the tool in his hand but he doesn't say anything. Rae thinks he's already tightened the screw he's working on. She wonders if she's dreaming. Red looks down at the device then pushes himself to his feet. He tosses the tool back into the pyre of her TIE and sighs.

"You don't ...support the troopers," Rae says, tone lilting up in an undeniable question. "Not anymore."

"I will not be party to the Empire's tyranny," Red snarls. Rae flinches back at the venom in his voice. "The Empire is nothing but a machine for making monsters."

Rae opens her mouth to protest but Red shakes his head.

"The Empire will make you a monster or it will destroy you. That's what it _does_. You think the Empire made you a great woman. You are wrong. The Empire owes you a debt. Not the other way around." Red looks down at the device in his hands. He presses a button and sets it on the rock he was sitting on.

"Why did you save me?" Rae's head is starting to ache. The planet's air feels thin as she breathes in.

"Because I'm a failure," Red's smile is bitter, his mockery entirely self-directed. "Even knowing what's coming, I can't stand by and let you die."

That doesn't make sense. Rae thinks she says that but the world is spinning around her. She topples sideways but there are gentle hands to catch her. She thinks (dreams?) of a soft song, like the lullabyes her mother used to sing. 

Sloane wakes in the medical bay with a pair of medical droids fussing over her and Colonel Pacha standing at the foot of her bunk. She is stable, three broken ribs already more than half healed and her myriad bruises lost to the bacta tank. Colonel Pacha informs her that her squadron suffered 80% casualties but two of her wingmen will survive thanks to her rebuilt homing device.

"Engineering said it was a remarkably neat job," Colonel Pacha tells her, admiration in the lift of his brow. "Especially given your concussion."

"I don't remember," Sloane lies. 

"Medical droids said some amnesia was to be expected. Low-oxygen on the planet," Colonel Pacha nods. "You would have died if you'd been there much longer."

Sloane nods and thanks him when he mentions that she's going to be recognized for this. Unspoken, the implication that Major Bhirku's death has left a vacancy that Sloane would fill nicely. She gets her promotion twenty minutes after being cleared to return to duties and Sloane orders new uniforms. She stares at them, hanging from the hook by her mirror, when she finally returns to her cabin. Neat and perfectly pressed, a promise of strength and order.

That night, Rae sews a small patch of vivid scarlet inside the lining of every single shirt.

* * *

The man who was once the boy from Jakku paces by the ramp of his starship. 

He is unsettled. He does not understand and while this is not a novel sensation, he is troubled. In this moment, he doubts. His orders are simple and concise. There is no ambiguity, no leeway and thus, no possibility of failure. His Emperor's orders have come. He must obey. 

And yet...

When there was a boy on Jakku, frightened and burdened with his new responsibility, there was a man who was kind to him. A man with red hair and a weary sorrow in his eyes.

"He doesn't own you," the man had said, "unless you believe he does."

The man had taught him how to hide his thoughts from even the deepest probe. He had asked for nothing in return. He did not even ask for water though he would take it if Galli pressed. Sometimes he came just to sit and listen to what Galli had to say. Nonsense and nothingness, the man that was once the boy from Jakku thinks now, but he had listened. He had remembered. He had cared even if Galli had not known that until much later.

Galli from Jakku had known Red before he ever knew his name, or that others knew him.

The man who paces the dock cannot outpace the thought that Red would be disappointed in him. It is not a new thought nor a unique one. There are rumours everywhere that speak of Red. There are multiple reports of him, always in conjunction with the Rebellion. Nothing major enough to draw down the Inquisitors but enough that the man who waits is uneasy.

The woman that his droids are fetching is nobody; a scullion and petty worker. He has looked into her background; a foundling abandoned on the steps of a charitable institution in Naboo. Bastard-born of a certainty but where the records should show a blood test to find her family as Naboo's legal code demands, there is only a blank space. A file perfectly sized to pass the casual audits of slicer droids that contains nothing but empty space. 

He touches his visor, brings up the feed from the droids. They are standing silently around the hovel that their target lives in as she packs her bags. One alerts to a second life-form. The others query; no-one passed their perimeter. The first is insistent and he brings up the visual feed.

The target is standing in the middle of her bare room, looking up at a tall man in a uniform that might pass for Imperial. Their hair is very nearly the same shade in the limited spectrum available to the droid's photoreceptors. It lacks clarity in the details.

"-can't go!" the man says.

"I must," the woman smiles at him. The man watching frowns. He had not been told that she had any attachments.

"You can't!"

"I can," she smiles and lifts a hand to the other's cheek. "I must."

"You'll die," softer. Almost broken. "Again."

"Perhaps," she has to rise onto her toes to kiss his forehead and the audio feed crackles. "-will live."

The man watching can't tell what she said. He? They? You? It could have been anything.

"I am not afraid," the woman says. She is still smiling. "The Force wills it."

"The Force doesn't care about people," her companion says bitterly.

"You know better," she shoulders her bag and her smile wavers. "Put your trust in the Force and It will guide you."

The answer she gets is lost in another crackle of static but she reaches up to draw him down again. This time she kisses both cheeks and his forehead as she draws him into an embrace. The man who is watching feels like an intruder but he does not order the droids to enter the home. She holds her companion close for a moment then steps back.

"I need to get going." Her smile is a tremulous thing this time. "I am glad to have seen you. To know you. I only wish it didn't hurt you so badly."

"It was worth it," her companion says almost too softly for the droid to pick it up. "I am glad...I am glad to have met you. To meet you, even under these circumstances. I am sorry for-"

"Forgiven," she smiles and squeezes his hands. "So this is goodbye."

"I could try-?"

"No," she shakes her head. "Be safe. Be careful."

"Too late." This time he kisses her cheek. "I would offer to accompany you but..."

"No," she lets go of his hands reluctantly. "I am in safe hands."

"For now," he straightens up. A military man, the man watching thinks, but something niggles at him. "Safe travels. May...May the Force be with you."

"And with you," she gives him one last lingering look. "I am so very proud of you."

Then she turns and almost runs through the door. The droids immediately switch all their attention to her and the man who watches has to manually redirect the droid's attention back to the hovel she left.

It is empty.

He does not have time to ponder this mystery; the droids are bringing the woman to him. He takes a moment to smooth down the blandly impersonal overalls and make sure that nothing of his disquiet shows on his face or in his bearing. He is smiling when the droids lead the small woman, thin as a strip of paper and shaking, to the ship.

"Deyamé of Naboo?" he smiles benevolently down at her. 

"Yes?" she peers at the droids and clutches her meagre possessions to her chest.

"I am Galli," he says, forgetting the carefully crafted personna created for just this moment. He keeps the panic from his voice and smoothly continues "I have the exquisite pleasure of escorting you today. Please board and take your seat."

"Thank you," she says and makes her way hesitantly up the ramp. Galli dismisses the droids and returns to the cockpit. He closes the ramp and takes the ship into orbit. They slip into hyperspace as easily as a cheating spouse slipping from the marital bed and Galli needs only a few moments to verify that all is well. They will arrive at Arkanis in just under six hours, three hours into local night, as intended.

He has orders about this woman, Deyamé of no House. He is not to speak with her. She will not speak with him, he has been assured. She is biddable. She will not resist his orders. She should see as little of him as possible but Galli is curious. Galli flips through the feeds to find her on the security cameras. She is sitting in an old seat by one of the narrow viewports with her bag on her lap. She has put down her hood and Galli stops in his tracks.

In the bright light of the cabin, seen through the high-definition focus of the security cam, he can see the colour of her hair clearly. The lights are not quite as bright as the sun of Jakku but the colour is too characteristic. He knows that shade and there are more ghosts, similarities in the high cheekbones and soft lips. Galli kills the feed and looks around like a child caught with a pocketful of someone else's scrap. His heart is beating very fast and all his amorphous worry is congealing into a heavy lump of dread.

Why does this woman, a nobody from a backward planet, look so much like Red?

* * *

Rae Sloane, her promotion so new that her uniform still has the faint discolouration from her colonel's bars, is bellowing orders as her troopers surround the dismal hovel that is sheltering the cell of Rebels. Worse than bilge-rats, they're tucked away in the middle of a metropolitan centre. The world is important enough, has enough useless politicians who can prattle to the Emperor, that she cannot use heavy ordinance. She is forced to rely on ground assault. Much more inefficient.

She cannot understand what drives citizens of worlds like this, fat and complacent, to spite the Empire that protects and enriches them. The Rim rats and the destitute? She can see the desperate and the degenerate flocking to the Rebellion. The weak crave leadership. Sloane has no patience for the fools who have everything they could ever want and childishly spit it back in the face of their betters.

She is watching the exercise from the shadow of a Walker. Her aide is dutifully mapping their progress. Sloane looks over at the display. The mission is proceeding exactly as intended. 

Then, and she can't understand why, it _isn't_.

The dull tones on the comms get louder. Troopers start shouting over each other. The dots that indicate enemy forces flicker and wink out. There's an explosion, large enough to shake the ground under her feet. Panic spreads like a fire in the air-circulation systems. Sloane's perfectly executed mission falls apart in the time it takes her to snatch the comm from her aide's hand.

"Move the reserves in!" Sloane barks and the neat lines of the reserve detachment start forward. She pulls her own blaster; Sloane prefers her fists but she's not intending to get close enough to use them. She leads her troopers past the perimeter, still trying to assert control over the rapidly devolving chaos within. 

It's not working.

She can't understand it. _Why_ isn't it working? The Rebels are disappearing faster than the troopers can find them. Every attempt Sloane makes to rally her forces falls apart faster than she can finish it.

"Find them!" Sloane orders. "Don't let them escape!"

She sees a flash of blaster fire, spins on her heel to chase the fleeing figures. She fires once, misses as they vanish around a corner and Sloane breaks into a run. The squad of troopers tramping at her heels are slow to react. She doesn't realize that until she rounds the corner. She sees the Rebels fleeing, a smaller figure cradling a bundle to their chest.

Sloane raises her blaster.

Then she stops dead in her tracks. Hard enough that her left knee crackles and almost buckles under her. Through the dust and the ash swirling in the air, Red looks immaculate. Almost like a holo-projection. Sloane stares at him. For an instant pale eyes meet hers.

Red's mouth twists, brows drawing down and he looks so disappointed. Sloane feels it in the marrow of her bones where she's still just the girl from Ganthel. She fumbles for words but Red doesn't say anything. Just half shakes his head before he turns away. Joins the flickering shadows of the Rebels as they flee.

Sloane is left to stand in the corridor, her conviction as shaken as the ruined dwelling around her.

* * *

"Admiral Screed," Tetrox's voice grates on his ears, static buzzing over the sibilents. "I am pleased you could join me."

"You have to be more careful," Screed snaps. "Comming me like that during a briefing! What if Vader had taken an interest?"

"There were preparations," Tetrox glides across the floor to meet him. Screed scowls. "There would have been a very boring but entirely necessary briefing with the radar technicians."

"Hmph," Screed tugs his coat straight. "I hope this is worth it. It was difficult enough to extract the subject without Vader getting suspicious."

"It was very insightful of you to anticipate his interest," Tetrox says. "I had not anticipated Lord Vader taking such an interest in a clone."

"Easily solved. The Empire has more than sufficient spares and a minor explosion disguises minor differences very well. I believe there was history," Screed preens despite himself. Tetrox's flattery is hardly subtle but it is always gratifying to be appreciated. "All the way from the Clone Wars. This clone served with the traitor Kenobi, apparently."

"Ah," Tetrox's hum crackles. "I see."

"I don't," Screed admits begrudgingly. "Vader is obsessed. The man has likely been dead for years by now."

"Lord Vader's vigilance in hunting the last of the Jedi is praiseworthy," Tetrox says mildly.

"It's irrelevant," Screed holds up a hand. "To the immediate matter."

"True," Tetrox turns to lead him into the heavily shielded room beyond. Screed's footsteps become soundless as he crosses the threshold. He pulls his handkerchief from his breast pocket and presses it over his nose and mouth. The stink of waste and blood is stomach-churning. The two cots are harshly illuminated, the bodies on them pinioned effectively. The subjects on the cots are babbling, voices barely more than pained whispers.

Screed bends to listen when Tetrox gestures. The Inquisitor steps forward and the subject moans, low and terrified. The Inquisitor's mask reflects the glare of the lights. Screed does wonder how much the subject is registering. The skin around his eyes is raw and blood pools in the sockets.

"Commander Cody," Tetrox purrs like a hunting loth-cat. "The Admiral wants to hear about General Kenobi and Red."

The subject moans, shaking his head weakly. Screed glances at the Inquisitor. The loyalty never ceases to surprise him; his initial assumption had been that the deviants of Kamino had programmed it but he has searched all their databases and found nothing about Red at all. Still, none of their subjects will even speak the name without considerable ...persuasion from Tetrox.

"Tell me," Screed orders and sees Tetrox curl their fingers. The subject screams weakly and struggles, eyes staring into nothing. He can see the subject's body temperature fluctuate wildly, pulse skittering alarmingly high. If it were a normal interrogation, Screed might fear a cardiac event. Tetrox is too skilled to allow that to happen. Screed waits for the agony to pass before he demands again. "Tell me what you know."

"Said..." the subject is still reluctant, words dragged out painfully. "He was...General Kenobi called him..."

"Called him what?" Screed presses.

"Called him..." the subject shakes his head, tears diluting the blood. "He called him...Hux."

Screed turns his head to meet Tetrox's gaze even as he straightens. The subject sobs, eyes closing as he continues to shake his head. Screed barely notices. He smiles at Tetrox and the Inquisitor's throaty sound is triumphant.

"We have a name."

* * *

"Grand Admiral!" Sloane does not recognize the young man who hurries after her and she is not in the mood to have a handsome young officer trying to seduce a promotion from her. The first Death Star was an expensive fiasco and Sloane had thought it the greatest act of stupidity enacted by the Empire. Then she had been forced to sit through a four hour briefing on the _second_ Death Star. "I apologize for the rudeness, Grand Admiral but I must speak with you."

"I am afraid I don't have time to talk," Sloane glances at his rank bars. She blinks. "Admiral...?"

"Gallius Rax," he sweeps a bow that belongs in a cheap holo-drama, "and really, Grand Admiral, I must insist."

Sloane bristles and Rax holds up a hand. She very nearly orders him away. A Grand Admiral still outranks a mere Admiral. Rax is too young to be wearing those bars and Sloane cannot remember ever meeting him before. She has no patience for such frivolity as Coruscant prefers. Sloane is eager to return to actual work.

"I understand that you have reservations," Rax says rapidly, eyes darting to the passing officers. "I am a very strange Admiral and you know nothing of me. Hardly grounds on which to build trust and mutual respect. Do, please, believe that I respect you tremendously, Grand Admiral. If circumstances allowed, I give you my word that I would never dream of being so presumptuous but circumstances do not allow and you are not likely to return to Coruscant for some time."

Sloane raises an eyebrow. Rax is correct. She is still reluctant; honest enough to admit that it is partially down to ruffled pride but she stays out of politics as much as her position allows.

"I beg just three minutes, Grand Admiral," Rax pleads, eyes still darting around. "Just three minutes to offer an explanation."

"What is this about?" Sloane demands.

Rax studies her for a moment. Then he leans in. Sloane's hand drops to her blaster. Rax lowers his voice so she has to strain to hear him. "Red."

Sloane freezes. No other outward sign but she sees the flash of triumph in Rax's eyes as he leans back. He still peers around like he's expecting someone to interrupt them. "I don't know what you mean."

Rax's eyes narrow and he leans in again. "You don't know Red? My dear Grand Admiral, you must work on your obfuscation."

"I cannot imagine anything you have to say to me, Admiral, that I need to hear," Sloane says icily.

"Not even to help him?"

"Red does not care for the Empire," Sloane says before she catches herself. Rax's eyes gleam and he leans in again. It is an act of will not to strike him.

"Not for the Empire," Rax agrees. "But he has intervened to save you."

"How do you know that?" Sloane snarls. Her feelings towards Red are complex and not something she dwells on but the insinuation in Rax's tone enrages her. She feels as if Rax has intruded on something private. Sloane has given her life to her Empire. She has earned some privacy!

"I will tell you everything," Rax promises her with an edge of desperation in his voice. "My word on it but this is not a conversation that can be held in a public walkway!"

Sloane very nearly orders him away but she thinks of Red in that Rebel base, so clear in her mind's eye that she can almost taste the dust. She looks at Rax who is very nearly pleading.

She nods.

* * *

MU-7723 activates. A medical alert has been broadcast. MU-7723 is required. It rolls out of its alcove, circuitry slowly coming to life. It waits for the alert to be transmitted before it continues forward. There is a minor malfunction in one of its treads. It must correct its course every 0.872 metres. Three different subroutines alert that it has exceeded the time allotted to for its response. MU-7723 logs the fault for its next maintenance cycle. An additional alert indicates MU-7723 received necessary maintenance less than twenty-four hours previously. MU-7723 logs that fault as well.

MU-7723 proceeds to the destination associated with the alert.

A small room. One(1) bed. One(1) patient. Four(4) onlookers. Patient is Deyamé, minor culinary function- **ERROR**

Patient is human. Patient is female. Patient is in the terminal stages of pregnancy. MU-7723 exends a needle attachment. The vocal recording tagged "BIRTH-RC1-HEALTHY" loads slowly. MU-7723 begins playback. The patient produces a long low tone. MU-7723 does not recognize the language. It pauses the playback.

One of the onlookers impacts MU-7723. Alerts from MU-7723's stabilizers flash across its console. MU-7723 suspends the alerts. It must complete the examination of the patient. Vitals are strong. Body temperature is elevated. Patient shows periodic signs of acute pain. MU-7723 diagnoses 'contractions'.

"Karking FUCKING HELLS!"

Patient speaks Galactic Basic. MU-7723 restarts recording "BIRTH-RC1-HEALTHY. MU-7723 starts a timer. Contractions are separated by less than two(2) minutes. MU-7723 pauses the playback. It loads the recording "BIRTH-RC19-HEALTHY-BIRTH" instead. The patient cries out and MU-7723 loads the mid level painkiller into its needle attachment. The patient groans but vitals indicate the patient is no longer in distress. MU-7723 loads "BREATHING RHYTHM_HumanStandard" and begins playback.

1.42 standard hours pass. MU-7723 directs the last of the onlookers to assist the patient in walking up and down the hallway. The small room affords no space. MU-7723 recalls the patient when physical signs indicate that the pregnancy is nearly complete. The patient exhibits sharp distress but before MU-7723 can formulate a response, there is a new patient in more immediate need.

The infant is small, responsive to stimuli and breathing independently within 15 seconds. MU-7723 cleans the child and swaddles it with care before presenting it to the mother. The primary patient cradles the child, breathing erratically. 

"Armitage," the patient says softly. MU-7723 logs the name.

The patient wails again and MU-7723 transfers the child to the cradle attachment. The patient cries out. MU-7723 monitors the patient's vitals. It runs the water through its inbuilt filtration system and four(4) litres are clean in time to wash the second infant. The primary patient topples backwards, landing on the bed.

"What?" The patient is more hesitant to accept the second infant. MU-7723 notes the second infant is smaller and starts making noise within seconds of commencing independent breathing. "Twins?! How-!?"

MU-7723 returns her first infant, extending additional arms to support the patient's arms. The afterbirth passes without incident and both infants latch successfully. MU-7723 compares time-stamps and confirms enough time has elapsed. It attempts to load additional painkillers into its needle attach- **ERROR**

MU-7723 compares time-stamps and confirms enough time has elapsed. It attempts to load additional painkillers into its needle attachment. The vials in its primary reservoir are empty. MU-7723 scans the records. It has not dispensed the drugs. It logs the error for its next maintenance. It opens the emergency reserve and loads the vial. MU-7723 runs a spectrum analysis on the reserve vial. An immediate alert flashes up. ' _Spectrum match found: TECCITIN! TOXIN! DO NOT DISPENS-_ ' **ERROR**

MU-7723 opens the emergency reserve and loads the vial. MU-7723 runs a spectrum analysis on the reserve vial. All indicators return green. MU-7723 extends the needle attachment. MU-7723 encounters resistance. MU-7723 attempts to apply greater pressure. The needle attachment returns an error. MU-7723 withdraws it for inspection. The needle has become bent.

It takes four(4) minutes to replace the needle. The primary patient shows no signs of distress but exhibits clear signs of fatigue. The two infants are now sleeping, appropriately secured against the chest of their parent. MU-7723 inserts the fresh needle and dispenses the necessary medication. A final examination confirms all is well. MU-7723 reverses from the room, logging a follow-up visit to take place the next day.

It takes MU-7723 ten(10) minutes to return to its alcove. It uploads the records on the encounter. It will have to log the patient in the system on the follow-up visit. The Academy records are comprehensive. MU-7723 connects to its charging poi-

**ERROR_ERROR_ERROR**


	2. At the Beginning with You

It is hot in the marketplace and Jyn pauses by a tea vendor. She can see Kay a short way off in the crowd and if she strains her ears, she can hear Chirrut's bantering laughter from another corner. Two years since the Empire fell and the nightmares still keep her awake more nights than they don't.

It still feels like a dream; to walk through a market without seeing white armour or hearing the bark of an Imperial flunky. Nobody watching for the local Imperial official or keeping aside the credits for a bribe. All the different species mingling in one crowd and a dozen different languages fill the air. Jyn wears simple clothes and a hood, half from habit and half to deflect the startling numbers of people who recognize her as a hero. She doesn't feel like a hero.

She feels like a thief, sneaking out of the stall. Her little family, still together and still with her. Five lives and a droid stolen from the death that claimed so many others. 'Survivor's guilt', the medical droid had called it. Another reason to be praised; the General who mourned for the fallen. Some part of her still wonders if they'll drift apart like the rest of the Rebels have; time and distance creeping in. But they are still together, locked in a shared orbit.

The Force let her save her family. She wonders sometimes if it will strike her down for wishing she could have saved one more life. Cassian doesn't like to talk of Hux. Bodhi can't. Chirrut insists that he is one with the Force, beyond all the pain and misery of life. Baze speaks of him very rarely and only in complicated metaphors. Kay says that Hux should have gotten to see their victory. He doesn't add that Anakin Skywalker should have died instead where any outsider can hear.

She almost doesn't register the sound, her memories so clear she thinks she's just remembering. Then she stops. Her heart speeds in her chest.

"Chirrut," she calls, barely over a whisper, "I need you."

He is there almost before she has finished speaking, hands tight on his staff and Baze grim faced behind him. He catches the hand she holds out. "Little sister?"

"I need your ears," Jyn whispers. She can't be sure that she's still hearing the song in the sea of sound around her. It might be wishful thinking. She doesn't know.

Chirrut closes his eyes and bows his head. For a moment, she is sure she was mistaken. Greedy enough that she's imagining things. Then he stiffens, as if an electric current has run through him. Blind eyes open and he turns, weaving his way through the crowd. Jyn is tugged along, Baze solid and silent behind her.

She hears the hiss of Baze's breath when he too hears the song and Chirrut goes faster. He is not quite running, a skipping step that covers the ground without drawing so many eyes. Jyn hears it so clearly now. She doesn't recognize the words nor the language but that tune is etched in her soul. Baze puts a hand on her shoulder and she blinks back tears.

Chirrut skids to a stop, just behind a ramshackle little tent. It looks like it's been put together from a ship's emergency supplies. Jyn can hear the song; it's a woman singing it she thinks.

"Jyn?" Cassian comes hurrying up with Bodhi and Kay right behind him. He cups her cheek, thumb brushing away the tears and his mouth opens. She sees the moment when he realizes what they're listening to. He staggers like he's been gut-shot. Bodhi is white as the clouds overhead and Kay has to catch him when his knees buckle.

"That's-" Bodhi gulps. "That's _his_ song!"

"Audio matching indicates a 97.6% match," Kay says. "I have never found anything higher than a 30% match in any of the archives I searched."

Jyn has to swallow down her tears and close her eyes just so she can breathe. The song cuts off and a woman speaks.

"Hello? Can I help you?"

"That song," Jyn opens her eyes. "The one you were singing. What is its name?"

"It's nothing but a lullabye," the woman says. "An old song from my home planet. I don't know that it ever had a name. It's a silly old thing about binary stars."

"Your home planet?" Jyn feels Cassian's hand tighten around hers. "Where is that?"

"Arkanis," she says, obliging but confused. "What ever is the matter?"

"A very dear friend used to sing that," Jyn says with a watery smile. "We lost track of him during the last days of the war. We didn't know where to look. Thank you."

"A friend?" The woman looks closer at Jyn and gasps. "A Rebel?"

"Yes," Cassian says. 

"Well," the woman looks nervous, braiding her fingers together. "I don't know that I'd look for him on Arkanis. There are a lot of Imperials on Arkanis. The Academy alone...well, I don't think any Rebel would feel safe going back there."

"Thank you," Jyn says and musters the best smile she can manage. She lets Cassian herd them all away. No-one speaks until they're under the shade of the trees that border the market. Bodhi leans into her as they look around at each other.

"It's a slim lead," Cassian says reluctantly.

"No," Bodhi says and they all startle. "I never said anything because it wasn't my place but-but he always talked like an Imperial. Like he'd been trained. Like he came from an Academy..."

"He could order troopers around without question," Chirrut nods.

"The accent's right," Baze offers.

"The uniform was not correct," Kay says and Jyn wants to shake him. "But. It was obviously inspired by Imperial uniforms."

"He knew how to take apart anything the Empire built," Chirrut is tapping his fingers on his staff. "He knew how to cause the greatest confusion and how to crack every code they used."

"He hated them," Jyn says and the others go quiet. "The way my f-father did. He knew everything about them and he _hated_ them."

"He might be dead," Cassian says, more reluctant than ever. "The second Death Star might have been too much for him to recover from."

Jyn breathes in through her nose. "I don't think that was the last time he came back. General Amidala gets ...strange whenever it comes up. And even if it was..."

She's never told them this and it feels like a betrayal just to open her mouth. Before she can muster her courage, Kay says "He called the Emperor 'grandfather' before he shot him."

"What?"

"He called the Emperor 'Grandfather' and shot him in the face," Kay says irritably. "And reviewing the data, I would say the overall pattern of his behaviour is consistent with him having travelled back in time. His knowledge of events and his ability to predict what the Empire was going to do would be expected outcomes."

"Time travel isn't possible," Cassian argues.

"All things are possible in the Force," Chirrut intones. "I think this is a sign."

Jyn looks around at the faces of her family and feels the shift in their stances. They all know the chances. They all want to do it anyway.

"We need a ship," Baze says. Jyn laughs.

"I know just who to call." She pulls out her comm. "Solo? I need a favour."

* * *

Lando is munching on some greens (he can recognize the Wookie term for them but he can't even manage the sound in his own head) when Han's comm goes. His old friend curses then claps a hand over his mouth, eyes flying to where his son is safely cradled in Chewie's arms. "I gotta take this."

"Trouble?" Lando asks and Han see-saws his hand. 

"Erso," he says. 

"I thought she was retired," Lando says.

"You and me both," Han taps the comm. "Let's see what she wants."

Lando rubs his hands and settles into his seat. He's curious. He's always admired Jyn Erso. In both senses of the word although he's smart enough not to try his luck. She has her hands (and her bed) full from what he can see. Rogue One are still an indivisible unit and looking to stay that way. He's seen too many pilots burned when they started angling for something deeper with Rook. The Guardians aren't interested and Erso and Andor are their own binary system. They've mostly shunned the publicity that the New Republic tries to press on them and Lando thinks it's smart. Jyn Erso's got a wise head on young shoulders.

"Solo," Jyn looks intact, no obvious wounds that he can see through the holo. There's something though, something about the way that she's standing that straightens Lando's spine without his permission. Something that says _General Erso_. "I need a favour."

"Now's not a good time," Han starts but she raises a hand.

"It's important," she says. "I need a good pilot and a good ship."

"But we'll settle for you," Andor's K2 unit chimes in and Jyn shushes him.

"It's _important_ ," she stresses. Han glares at her. Old softy's halfway to convinced, then he glances at Ben and wavers. "Han, I wouldn't be asking if it wasn't urgent."

"Where do you need to go?" Han folds his arms and shifts his weight uncomfortably.

"Arkanis," Jyn says.

"Kark off," Han sputters. "That's an active warzone, in case you haven't noticed!"

"It's important," Jyn says for the third time.

"What the karking hells could be so important that you need a ship into a warzone?!" Han demands. "We're done with war, remember?"

Lando knows the answer a moment before Jyn inhales deeply. "Red."

" _What?_ " Chewie comes back into the hut, bouncing Ben on his hip. " _What about Red?_ "

"I can't tell you," Jyn raises a hand when all three of them go to protest. "Not over an open comm, Solo. It's not secure."

"Dammit, woman," Han rakes both hands through his hair. "And damn you for getting me into this."

" _Us,_ " Chewie says and Han turns to him.

"You're not coming, c'mon, Chewie. Your family-"

" _Will understand,_ " Chewie barks and there's a snap to it that Lando isn't used to hearing pointed at Han. " _This is **important**!_"

"It can't be that important," Han argues. "You've been itching to come home since...since forever!"

" _What is the trouble here?_ " Lando gets to his feet as their hostess, a regal Wookie with more grey in her pelt than brown, enters the room.

"We're just discussing a potential favour-" Han starts but Chewie interrupts him.

" _It's about Red_."

Their hostess stiffens, rising to her full height as she turns to look down on the small blue figure of Jyn Erso. " _Is this true?_ "

"Yes, ma'am," Jyn says. "My name is Jyn Erso. I'm part of Rogue One. We owe Red our lives. We owe him our lives a hundred times. We believe we have a chance to repay some of that debt. We just need some help."

" _Kashyyyk owes a debt to Red,_ " the old Wookie says. Chewie warbles agreement. " _The Empire came to Kashyyyk as if we were nothing but animals. They enslaved us, hunted us...tried to break us. They tortured our people. They would have treated us as less than animals. Dark times. And yet...it would have been much worse if Red had not warned us. How many children might have died to satisfy the monsters the Empire sent? How many of our Navigators might have been tortured until we were broken?_ "

Chewie howls and the old Wookie shakes her head.

" _We never forgot the Republic but we were forgotten by the Republic and by the Rebellion. Red did not forget. Red, who fought with us against Dooku and his droids. Red remembered and Red came to Kashyyyk like a shadow in the night. Red saw what they did. Red saw what they would do. Red said that they must be stopped. Red showed us how to free ourselves from the control chips. Red fought to take the Star Destroyers alongside our warriors._ " She pauses and holds her paws out. " _We are Wookies. A life debt is a sacred charge. How much deeper is the debt owed for a thousand lives? For a million? For a billion lives? For our home being ours once more? What price can one set on freedom from fear and tyranny? If any Wookie can aid Red, we must do so. To do otherwise would be dishonour for all generations and all time._ "

Han clears his throat roughly. Lando looks at Chewie. "I didn't know that?"

" _I do not think there is anyone in the Galaxy who knows all that Red did in the fight against the Empire,_ " Chewie says seriously. " _As he intended, I believe. But Finnawull is right. If we can help Red, or even friends of Red, we must help._ "

"All right! Fine!" Han turns to Erso. "Where are you?"

She names a small market planet, not too far off the direct route to Arkanis. Lando sees Han realize this a second after he does. Han sighs. "Keep your comm on. And start planning. I want one of those Erso miracles, you hear?"

"I'll do my best," she smiles. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me until we're on the other side of this," Han says and cuts the comm. He blows out an exasperated breath. "You could just stay here, keep Ben safe. Save me a couple of grey hairs?"

" _No,_ " Chewie says firmly. " _I could not._ "

" _He is right,_ " Finnawull says heavily. " _The Force wills this._ "

"I never heard any whisper that Red was even seen on Kashyyyk," Lando mentions, hoping to head off the argument he can see brewing.

" _We told no-one,_ " Finnawull says. " _Chewbacca is correct. He did not seem to want attention. He never did. We keep his secret and are grateful to do so._ "

"You know he's probably dead," Lando says bluntly. "Luke says...well, Luke and his father both say he died on the Death Star."

" _Red has died many times,_ " Finnawull says. " _It changes nothing. If we can help Red's friends, we must._ "

"Whoa, wait a minute," Han shakes his head. "Chewie, I'm not going to stop you coming but Arkanis is heavy Imperial. One Wookie is going to stand out like a Jedi in a Hutt pit. More than one? That's just asking for trouble. If we're doing this crazy mission, we're doing it _smart_."

Finnawull makes an unhappy sound in her throat but nods slowly. She says something to Chewie that's too fast for Lando to pick up. It sounds terribly formal and he sneaks a glance at Han who half-shakes his head. 

"Well, you're right," he tells Han. "Just as well I'm coming too."

"You don't have to," Han meets his eyes then looks away.

"I want to," Lando glances at Chewie. "I might not owe Red as much as some people but I still owe him and I hate being in debt."

Han grumbles and swipes the comm off the table. "I'm going to call Leia, see if she can take Ben. I don't mind risking my neck but I'm not risking my kid!"

"That's fair," Lando says. He takes Ben when Chewie has to go talk to some people. Apparently there are more Wookies to be told and involved and Lando isn't a fool. He knows how to read a room or a hut. He takes Ben who is complaining and goes to get the _Falcon_ warmed up. The kid is willing to be distracted and Lando wonders again why he's always crying. He seems like a sweet kid so much of the time, then it's like watching a switch get thrown. Or watching the inevitable when a treasured toy gets thrown away. It's bizarre and he knows Han's fretting over it.

Lando just walks him around the _Falcon_ , narrating what he's doing as he goes and Ben drifts off halfway through booting up the nav-com. Lando settles him a little more securely against his shoulder and carries on. He keeps talking in a low voice and Ben stays sleeping. He's running out of things to talk about when he hears Han's boots on the ramp.

"We good to go?"

"Just as soon as Chewie gets here," Han calls back. He's pacing by the sound of it. "Damn fool stupid thing."

"Did you get hold of Leia?"

"No," Han snaps. "She's off with Luke and the rest of the Jedi. Her mother's busy in the Senate or I'd ask her. I don't like bringing Ben into danger like this. This whole business is too damn risky."

"We'll take care of him," Lando promises. "Don't worry about it!"

"I have to worry about it!" Han snarls. Ben shifts and they both freeze in place. The kid yawns and snuggles back down against Lando's shoulder. They give it another few seconds. When he doesn't start screaming, Han continues in a hushed tone, one eye on the kid. "I'm his karking dad! I'm _supposed_ to worry about him! That's my job!"

"I know, I know," Lando soothes. "But he's got you, me and Chewie looking out for him. _On top of_ Erso and her boys. He's going to be fine."

"Leia's going to skin me," Han grumbles. "Then her father is. Then her mother is going to be 'so disappointed' in me."

Lando laughs and pretends to be rocking the boy when Han glares at him. He takes the seat behind Chewie's so Han can keep looking at Ben through the pre-flight preparations. Chewie comes back, ramp creaking under his weight and takes his seat.

"Everything okay?"

" _We go with the tribe's blessing,_ " Chewie sounds solemn as he adjusts the harness of thermal detonators across his chest. 

"Then let's get going," Han says and the _Falcon_ rattles to life around them. Lando peers out of the viewport as they rise up and up through the trees. There are new huts being built, cubs bounding from branch to branch and the smoke from dozens of cooking fires. The only visible remains of the Empire are the jagged trophies made of shattered fragments of stormtrooper armour and bleached bones.

Kashyyyk was very lucky, he thinks. He's seen some of the worlds where the Empire really sank their teeth in. All the way to the gum line. He's seen much worse. If Red helped the Wookies avoid that fate? Well, their reaction makes a lot of sense. He just doesn't quite believe it. Lando heard a lot more about Red than he experienced himself but he'd run a handful of missions with the man. He'd never gotten the sense that Red was in this for himself. Red had put him in mind of some of the old veterans, the ones from the Clone Wars. The guys who weren't fighting because they believed they'd see the glorious post-Empire Republic but so that the younger folk would.

He'd tried sounding Red out exactly once. 

He'd gotten a well-placed staff in the family jewels for his troubles, courtesy of Chirrut. Lando isn't holding a grudge exactly but he's thinking about that failed conversation as they blast into hyperspace. He doesn't want to say anything but he's damn curious. The Empire's fallen. The Emperor's dead. Skywalker and his clan, Rogue One, all the people that Red worked so hard to save are safe and prospering. What could Red be up to now?

* * *

Normally, Cassian is the calm one. It's something that still makes his surviving comrades laugh when they meet for drinks in space stations or planetary cantinas. He laughs at himself. He was always reserved and cautious but his reputation before Jedha, before _Scarif_ , was of a man who acted on his own initiative when he thought it necessary. Not a loose cannon, nothing so dangerous but definitely impetuous.

Then the Force gave him a family full of fearlessly courageous souls and Cassian learned what 'reckless' truly meant.

Truthfully, he doesn't mind being the calm one. Someone has to remember why they fight and take the chances that they do. That was the lesson Hux taught him on Scarif; never forget what you fight for and never trade the ones you love for another's idea of victory. Cassian guards their little family fiercely, even from themselves.

He thinks Draven would be laughing if he could see him now; pacing circles around their ship: checking his comm every third step: checking his blaster every five. Kay is watching him impassively.

"This will not make Solo arrive any faster," the droid observes.

"I know."

There is a pause as Cassion circles Chirrut and Baze, seated back to back with their eyes closed. Chirrut is smiling faintly in a way that always bodes ill for whatever poor soul is getting in his way. Baze is impassive. A familiar stillness from a dozen missions; when Baze moves, he will be inexorable. Cassian checks his backup blaster is securely holstered. He turns.

"Solo's expected time of arrival remains unchanged," Kay reminds him.

"I know."

He passes Bodhi, fiddling with the engine and peering up at the sky every other second and they nod to each other. He can feel Bodhi's nervous energy jittering through him. He wants to be gone. He wants to be on Arkanis.

"Cassian," Jyn calls and he spins. She's sitting on the upper wing of their small ship, datapad in hand. He goes to her and she holds it out. He blinks, the narrowly spaced words blurring for a second. It's an Intelligence report. He scrolls to the top, reads "ACADEMY, IMPERIAL" then in smaller letters "CO: HUX, Brendol (Commandant)".

He drops the datapad, fumbles it twice and has to reread the heading three times before he scrolls down.

There's a small image of Hux, of Brendol Hux, taken on a parade ground. The face is too coarse. Too cruel. But the hair that pokes out from under the regulation cap is red. The stance, if Cassian mentally adjusts for their Hux's slender frame, is almost a perfect match. He looks up at Jyn who has her hands clasped tightly in her lap.

He looks back at the report.

"No children," he says, hope faltering.

"That report is four years old," Jyn says. "They wouldn't update it just because he had a child."

"But he's still there?" Cassian checks.

"Yes," Jyn stares up at the sky. "I checked with Draven."

"How has no-one noticed the name?" Cassian asks, incredulous. They never looked for Hux in the databases. Why had they never looked? How had no-one else looked?

"I've been thinking about that," Jyn says. "How many people actually knew his name?"

"Lots of them," Cassian says. "We know, General Amidala knows, the Jedi know-"

" _Some_ of the Jedi know his name was Hux," Jyn corrects. "Master Skywalker. Master Plo. Luke. Leia. Ahsoka. Maybe Master Ventriss but I don't know for sure and I've never asked. Everyone else, _everyone_ , Cassian, calls him 'Red'."

"The troopers," Cassian says more doubtfully.

"The same thing," Jyn says. "Even Xan doesn't ever call him Hux. He's always Red. Or LTH-RED if he's being formal. Rex knows his name but I've never heard him be the first to use it."

"Mon Mothma," Cassian's almost certain of that.

"Thinks he died on the Death Star," Jyn says. "And they actually met, what? Twice? At most, three times."

"General Amidala," Cassian's positive of that one.

"She knows more than she says," Jyn concedes, "but why would she be looking for him now? She's known him since she was a child. If she looked for him, she'd have been looking backwards, not forwards. Remember, I don't think either of the Skywalkers heard Hux call the Emperor 'Grandfather'. They were barely conscious and then..."

"Then things got complicated," Cassian agrees.

"Even if she did look," Jyn jerks her chin at the datapad. "The Commandant's a monster. He doesn't look anything like Hux, aside from the hair. He's a petty officer, barely more than just another Imperial drone. If he fled the Academy, the New Republic wouldn't chase him for cycles. He's a thug. Hux was something else entirely. A leader. A General. We only see the similarity because we have the other parts of the puzzle. Padmé's got a complicated history with Hux, remember. Her husband..."

Jyn trails off, trying to indicate with gesture what she means. Cassian dips his head. Master Skywalker is something of a cipher to the few Rebels who know about his past as Vader. Cassian can never see the man without wrestling down conflicting feelings; he _hated_ Vader and everything he represented: he knows Anakin Skywalker was the man Hux did so much to save. He cannot reconcile the two and he prefers to invest his energies in more important matters.

The one thing Cassian will concede is that Anakin Skywalker loved Hux like a father. He does believe that never changed either; Vader would never intentionally have harmed the man. He's fairly sure that the only reason Vader hadn't burned the Galaxy trying to find him is that Vader had believed Hux dead in the Temple. General Amidala, on the few occasions they have spoken of the matter (always over several drinks), agrees. So he can see how General Amidala might be hesitant to reopen such deep wounds.

"It's not proof," he says. It's as much directed at his own surge of hope as her.

"I know," Jyn's smile fades. "But I couldn't live with myself if we didn't try. He spoke of his upbringing once or twice. He never went into details. He ...it sounded bad."

"I agree," Cassian tries for a smile. Jyn smiles back. "It would be nice. Us saving him for a change."

"I am detecting an approaching ship," Kay interrupts and they turn to stare up into the sky. The Millennium Falcon cuts through the sparse clouds with the over-dramatic flair so characteristic of her pilot. 

"Come on," Jyn grabs her own weapons up from beside her. Bodhi is locking the ship with their oversized medical kit clutched to his chest with one hand. The two Guardians rise as one, Baze casually chambering a round in his heavy blaster. Cassian pauses long enough to kiss Jyn, taste the wild grin that he fell in love with before slithering down the side of the ship to join the others.

Jyn jumps lightly down to join them as the _Falcon_ curves to pull alongside them, engines kicking up a strong wind even as the ramp lowers. Cassian can just make out Chewbacca standing there, one paw steadying him. Jyn leads the way, as she always does, leaping fearlessly through the sand and dust.

Chirrut moves in step with Baze, landing lighter and more graceful than his husband. Bodhi swallows, feints at the ramp once before Cassian gets a hand on his shoulder.

"Together," he calls and they jump.

Kay's landing on the ramp behind them makes it shudder and Cassian staggers a step but he's onboard. Chewbacca roars a greeting as the engines power them aloft again. Cassian gets his balance and looks around. The _Falcon_ has many faults but speed has never been one of them. They're into hyperspace before Cassian has caught his breath. The rest of his team are taking seats in the main cabin and Cassian follows them in.

"So, time to hear the rest of this story," Solo appears in the doorway of the cockpit, scowling fiercely. Cassian bristles immediately. He has learned to tolerate Solo. Begrudgingly. Jyn deserves no less. The man is still an ass! 

Jyn glances around at the rest of Rogue One before she turns to Solo.

"This is going to sound a little crazy," she starts. Cassian thinks she does an admirable job. She doesn't mention the 'Grandfather' comment. He's not sure if that's from guilt or her perception of Solo's gullibility. It seems to be the right move.

"This isn't a _little_ crazy, sister," Solo says as he tosses back the datapad with the picture of Commandant Brendol Hux still showing on the screen. "The hair and the stance might be close but that doesn't prove anything."

"I know," Jyn says and Solo flounders. "But it's a reason to hope."

"Yeah, yeah, rebellions are built on hope. I remember." Solo grumbles. "Hope you've got a plan for finding this guy.

"The Force will guide us," Chirrut proclaims.

Solo glares at him. "The Force doesn't work like that!"

"Not for you, perhaps," Chirrut smiles and Solo is called back to the cockpit by the approaching exit from hyperspace. "The Force wills this. I am sure of it."

"I hope the Force's will means we get some luck," Cassian says as he checks his blaster one last time. "We're going to need it."

"We don't need luck," Jyn says with a lopsided smile. "We have the Force...and each other."

* * *

Arkanis is a small, blue-grey planet surrounded by an interlocking ring of ships. The Empire's Star Destroyers arrayed like bared fangs and the motley Republic fleet cutting into them. Chewbacca counts a dozen weapons fired in the first second and the light of the intership battle outshines Arkanis' dim sun. The comm channels are full of loud voices from both sides shouting confusing orders and demands for information

He listens absently to the chatter even as he steers the _Millennium Falcon_ through the bewildering tangle of friendly and unfriendly ships. Han is talking to someone, Chewbacca only pays attention to the tone; annoyed and superior. His human is playing the smuggler again. Chewbacca only starts paying attention when Han starts talking about the Academy itself.

"-lots of defences, you say?" He hums. "The Commandant's still there? Yeah, that'll make it tough."

Han sticks his thumb up as Chewbacca tracks the coordinates that they found on an old Imperial map. The Academy is too big to be moved, thank the Empire's overweening ego. The maps of the actual Academy are much more questionable. The formal ones and the Rebellion's maps don't agree on much past the parts that show up on public holo-vids. The Siege has been going for eighteen months and both sides have been struggling but evenly matched due to neither the dying Empire or the rising New Republic committing enough to turn the tide.

Chewbacca never paid much attention when Arkanis was discussed. It has never been important; a symbol of the Empire perhaps but lacking the strategic advantages of the scattered Imperial Fleet or the many industrial planets. Conversely, it has just enough significance that neither side is willing to simply concede it. There are a scattering of such planets in every news broadcast and Chewbacca does not keep track anymore. He is not officially anything to the New Republic after all. 

He does wish he had paid more attention to the news now but the _Falcon_ is more than capable of slipping through the gaps in the combat. Chewbacca threads the ragged remnants of the planetary defenses with surprising ease. The comm chatter is all Imperial now. Thankfully, they have more important things to worry about. Han has managed to win Commodore Trarodd's support and the New Republic fleet has launched an assault. No-one is paying any attention to an old freighter hurtling less than two metres above the turbulent grey seas.

The Academy is less than four kilometres from the coast. It looms out of the mists, all dark stone and unforgiving angles. Chewbacca puts the _Falcon_ down near a grove of straggling trees, halfway between the Academy and the coast. There are two roads bracketing the little grove, overgrown and sinking into puddles. Arkanis is a wet planet. The cold grey wet that makes Chewbacca grateful for his thick coat. He worries for his humans but only as long as it takes him to get up and leave the cockpit.

Jyn Erso, still the General, is overseeing her little tribe's donning of waterproof coats and cloaks. Only Guardian Îmwe's staff is visible but Chewbacca can see the bulges and crooked folds where weapons are hidden. He growls approval and Jyn Erso smiles at him. He does not make any effort to hide his detonator belt or bowcaster. Any natives who see him will not survive the encounter. Any who pry are likely to be the Empire's creatures. Chewbacca will feel no remorse. These parasites grew fat and cruel on the oppression of those under their tyranny. 

He does stop Han when his human goes to get his coat. Chewbacca shakes his head.

"What?" Han glares up at him. "You gotta be fracking kidding me! Of course, I'm going!"

Chewbacca shakes his head again and points to his friend's pup. Ben is only half-asleep; exhaustion not enough to drown out the tightly leashed anticipation in the air. Han looks at Ben and Chewbacca feels the hesitation. He is the same with his own pups. The Wookie way is to roam and he had never questioned that his exile was necessary. He was a General. The troopers knew his name, his tracks and the dark beast that lurked behind the troopers had known him for a Navigator. It would have been worse if he had tried to stay.

He might have. He very nearly did. No, Chewbacca thinks as he looks at Rogue One, he would have. He would have stayed and his family would have suffered if Red had not been there. He thinks, hopes rather, that he was there for some time before he showed himself. Finnawull had taken him in as kin and friend without waiting for formalities. She was past the age of child-bearing and her pups were grown but not quite old enough to be bearing families of their own. She had taken Red in as if he was an orphaned pup. He might not have been a pup but he had been orphaned all the same. The Jedi were dead or scattered. The Republic gone. The Sith in ascension.

_And still, he came to us,_ Chewbacca thinks. Red had been pale as bleached bone, barely able to stand and his whole scent was of pain. He had still forced himself out of the shelter Finnawull offered, still faced the anger and the fear of the Elders as they raged about the meeting fires and still offered hope. Red had offered his own life, all the knowledge he could muster and told them honestly that it might not be enough. Finnawull did not tell Chewbacca's humans about that. He has never told Han.

The memory is too sharp-edged. Hope and grief. It had been a bittersweet memory and it still is even though Red had done as he promised. Chewbacca wonders again if any of them will ever know how high the cost Red paid to save them all really was. He will tell Han, he thinks, when there is time and peace.

"Chewie, c'mon!" Han is still talking to him. "I'm not gonna just sit here while you're out there!"

" _You're not just 'sitting here',_ " Chewbacca says. " _You are protecting Ben and you are keeping the engines hot. If the intelligence is accurate, we will likely need to leave in a hurry. We will be pursued._ "

"You don't know that," Han complains.

" _If they have Red, they will not give him up without a fight,_ " Chewbacca says with certainty. " _The General will not leave him here. None of us will._ "

"Which is why you should have someone there to watch your back," Han fires back.

" _I will have people to watch my back,_ " Chewbacca puts both paws on Han's shoulders. " _This is just an Imperial facility. Nothing as bad as Jabba._ "

"You have to bring that up, don't you," Han grumps. His sour expression does nothing to hide the worry thickening his scent. "You take care of my buddy, Erso, you hear?"

"I hear," Jyn Erso says with a smile. She does not smell of offense the way Cassian and Rook do, not even a little. She is a good General. Chewbacca is proud to follow her again. "We'll be careful but keep the engines hot all the same, okay?"

"I'll keep the engines hot," Han grumbles. "Probably going to bring the whole damn Empire down on our heads. What's left of it."

"Probably," Jyn Erso smiles again. "Just as well we have the fastest ship in the sector waiting for us, huh?"

"You're damn right!" Han puffs up a little with pride and Chewbacca chirrs deep in his throat. His human gets so worked up about things. Han struts off to offer advice to the rest of the humans. Chewbacca exchanges a look with Jyn Erso. Her smile is distracted. He thinks she is already back to focusing on the mission. He trills at her and checks his bowcaster.

Lando comes with them part of the way, tucking himself away in a ditch where he can cover their retreat or get Han in the air, depending on how the mission goes. He's better at hiding than Han would be but every bit as reluctant to be left out of the actual mission but he's smart enough not to argue.

The Academy looks grander from a distance; all towering walls and imposing buildings. The architecture is more typical of Coruscant or other Imperial worlds than anything fit for Arkanis itself. The rot becomes more apparent as they approach. Damp and mould spread in patches across the grey stone and the walls are cracked and uneven. The roads that lead to the Academy are potholed and puddles are everywhere. The Imperial flags are ragged and fraying at the edges but still flying.

The remnants of precise Imperial gardens, now overgrown and mostly mud, give them enough cover to creep past the guards. There are only a few vehicles, most sunk to the axel in mud. The armour that the guards are wearing is all polished and impeccably white. They march around like droids performing routine tasks. The blasters they are carrying look dilapidated and overused and the guards themselves stink of exhaustion and fear. They are easily evaded, the Guardians slipping past them to open doors. 

Inside, the Academy is damp and rotting. Two of every three lights are out and the narrow windows let in very little natural light. The carpet underfoot squelches in places and all the bleach in the Galaxy can't hide that the plaster is rotting and the duracrete is cracking. Poorly-maintained droids clank past but their circuitry buzzes loudly enough that even the humans can hear them coming from metres away. Cassian's droid passes unremarked in the dim lights. Only a handful of actual beings encounter them. A few don't even see them. The rest react too slow to save themselves. They are all thin and brittle. They die silently.

There's a scent in the air that Chewbacca can't define; it smells of defeat and despair and desperation, all the myriad of scents that add up to a losing battle and failure. The slow erosion of inevitability, mites under the bark chewing the wood away in microscopic bites. Rot in place of growth. He shakes his head.

Cassian glances at him, brows raised and Chewbacca shakes his head again. He is tense. This is not a victory that fires the blood. This is the Empire as it truly was, not relentless and omnipresent but vile little creatures indulging their cruelties. There is no heady triumph in ending them, no rush of courage or clever scheme. They are an infection, to be purged as quickly as possible before they sicken the Galaxy again. He is trying to think how to phrase this; Cassian is competent in Shyriiwook rather than fluent. 

Then he stops dead in his tracks. He sniffs. Jyn Erso stops and looks up at him. "What? What is it?"

" _I smell..._ " Chewbacca sniffs the air again, " _Red._ "

Jyn Erso stares at him. "Can you tell which direction?"

" _This way,_ " Chewbacca turns them down a side corridor. The smell of bleach and polish gets thicker. The carpets are cleaner and there's evidence of someone working to hold back the decay. There's fresh paint over the cracks and the flags on the walls are precisely hung. It feels like a bad joke and Chewbacca grumbles in his throat. The hallways are better lit. Polished metal nameplates appear on the doors. 'House Master'. 'Drill Section Leader'. 'Navigation (lt.)'

Cassian opens one of the doors and the smell of decay wafts out. There is a body slumped over a desk, blaster in hand and blackened hole in the head, rotting flesh puffy around the wound. Rook chokes. The Guardians turn their faces away. Cassian closes the door again. Jyn Erso looks up at Chewbacca.

"Is there anyone left alive in here?"

" _We will see._ "

They don't open any of the other doors. There's nothing to see. Chewbacca's thoughts are dark as they come to a grand spiral of a staircase. They pause and Chewbacca sniffs the air. " _The scent is fresher but I cannot tell which direction to go._ "

Jyn Erso looks over her shoulder. "Chirrut?"

The Guardian stands up straight, tilting his head back and forth. He stills, blind eyes staring into the distance. "I hear voices. Below."

"I don't like this," Cassian complains as he peers down the stairs. Chewbacca whines agreement. The stairs are too open and the twists too narrow to let them see very far ahead. 

"We don't have time to find another way," Jyn Erso says and she is right. 

"Quickly and quietly." Guardian Malbus whispers and they glide down the steps like a pack of shadows. Chewbacca cradles his bowcaster to his chest as they hurry. The stairs go on forever but it is Guardian Îmwe who perks up. He raises a hand and the rest of his little tribe slow, weapons drawn and ready. The droid's photoreceptors flicker.

"I am picking up heat signatures," it informs them. "One storey below us."

"Wait here," Jyn Erso drops to her haunches and creeps forward, small body pressed against the balustrade to hide from prying eyes. She leads them the rest of the way until they all hear voices. Loud Imperial-accented voices. Chewbacca's snarl is silent but it bares all of his teeth. Jyn Erso waves them to a halt just as the stairway curves.

"These traitors are _weak_!" The voice that carries up the stairs is harsh. "Failures! Deviants!"

Chewbacca creeps close enough to peer over Jyn Erso's shoulder. The stairs lead to an open space, oppressively dim and smelling of bleach and mould. Two overhead lights are flickering. The other ten are dark. The single stretch of carpet is faded unevenly. The speaker is a big man wearing an Imperial uniform that is slightly too small for him. His face is red and spittle flies as he rants. He is holding a whip that he smacks into his gloved palm for emphasis as he roars. There are a dozen or so other officers standing in a cluster to his left. Two stormtroopers with their helmets off, baring closely-shaved scalps and bruised faces, are kneeling before the man and beyond them, four ranks of fully armoured troopers are standing at attention. The ranting man paces back and forth and Chewbacca sees restraints on the kneeling troopers.

"We are men of the Empire!" the man snarls. "It is our honour to perform our duty and fulfil our orders! Captain Harrek!"

"Yes, Commandant?" A too-thin man with a twisted nose salutes. 

"Deal with these vermin!" The Commandant barks as he comes to a stop, looming over the kneeling men.

"Yessir!" The Captain unholsters his sidearm and steps forward. "GT7713, BR8764, you have been convicted by your commanding officers as traitors to the Academy and the Empire. You are hereby sentenced to death. The sentence will be carried out immediately."

One of the troopers tries to rise only to be viciously backhanded by the Commandant. The trooper falls and the skeletal captain shoots him in the face. The second trooper has time to turn his head towards his fellow before he is shot. The body falls in dead silence. None of the observers even seem to breathe.

A soft sob breaks the silence and the Commandant whirls to face the cluster of officers, face darkening. The officers part to reveal a smaller figure. A child. A tiny boy with limp red hair, wearing a grubby shirt that is too big for him. Chewbacca barely gets a glimpse of the child's face before the Commandant seizes the child and hauls him off his feet. Chewbacca's claws extend and he growls low. The child cannot be more than a couple of years older than Ben. The Commandant's face is red, spittle flying as he shakes the child like a cloth doll. 

"You dare! You dare to make a show of me like this! AGAIN? Stop snivelling or by the Emperor, I'll give you something to cry about!" The child cries and the Commandant throws the child to the ground. None of the officers even look at the child. A couple flinch at the sound of the Commandant's hand connecting with the child's face. No-one moves. One of the troopers at the far end of the line looks away. 

"-teach you to show such weakness!" The Commandant slaps the child again. Cassian surges forward but Chewbacca grabs the back of his jacket. They go forward more cautiously but faster now. Chewbacca can smell the grim disgust that runs through them. He can smell more than that. He can smell the child. He can smell Red.

The Commandant draws back the whip and the child cries out, throwing up his arms to protect his face.

The Commandant is thrown back. Not far. Less than a metre. But no-one was close enough to touch him. Chewbacca hears Guardian Malbus hiss something in the language of Jedha. The Commandant bellows, drawing back the whip in his hand but Jyn Erso is already throwing herself forward. Guardian Îmwe's staff snaps out. The whip flies from the Commandant's hand. Guardian Malbus and Cassian shoot and the troopers fall. The officers go for their weapons. Jyn Erso sweeps the child into her arms and away from the fire-fight.

"Kay!" She throws her blaster to the droid even as Guardian Îmwe moves to shield her and the child. The droid starts to shoot.

Chewbacca goes straight for the Commandant. He is barely recognizable as the man from the files, face now purple with rage as he screams for his men to kill them. This close, the Commandant stinks of raw alcohol and cruelty. There is blood in the air. Red's blood. Chewbacca does not need to look at the child to know that they have found him. His rage is a hot and furious thing.

He looks down at this man, this monster, and sees the Empire that had come to his home and tried to steal his pups and murder his kin. His rage erupts and he seizes the man by the throat. His claws sink into soft flesh and the Commandant chokes. Chewbacca lifts him from his feet. The man kicks at him and Chewbacca catches his leg. It takes no great effort to pull until he hears the snap of the spinal cord. He drops the still-gurgling man to the ground like the _greeash'k_ he is.

"Chewie!" Jyn Erso calls. Rogue One are falling back up the stairs. Rook has a door open, blaster clutched in his hands. The troopers have fallen back into a defensive huddle. Most of the officers are dead but the Captain has ducked behind a pillar. Chewbacca snatches up his bowcaster and fires steadily even as they back up the stairs. The droid is still firing. The Guardians have moved to shield Jyn and the child in her arms. Cassian covers Chewbacca's retreat to the stairs and they fall back up the stairs together.

Cassian's droid locks the door then shoots the lock. It hands the blaster to Cassian before it inserts its spike into the network port of the nearby console. Its photoreceptors flicker.

"I hope you know how we're getting out of here," Cassian says.

"We are on the ground floor," the droid says. "There are two emergency exit routes from here that will bypass the Academy's defences. I am downloading a map as we speak. There is no network security worth speaking of so this should be quick."

Chewbacca turns his attention to the child in Jyn Erso's arms. This close, there can be no mistake. " _Is Red hurt?_ "

Jyn Erso lifts her hand from the boy's back and Chewbacca can smell the blood. He warbles distress and smells the sharp tang of fear. Jyn Erso does not look around at him, her focus on the boy. She sets him down and crouches in front of him.

"Hello," she says and the boy peers up at her from under his fringe. The eyes are familiar. "Are you all right?"

The boy nods warily.

"My name is Jyn," she says. "I- _we_ are here to help you."

That gets a deeply suspicious look and the boy darts a glance at the rest of their motley crew. Chewbacca bends to meet those fearful eyes. " _Greetings to you, Red. I am-_ "

"'Bacca," the boy mumbles. He looks confused. "I don't...that wasn't Basic!"

"It wasn't," Jyn Erso agrees. "Chewbacca is a Wookie."

"Wookies don't like humans," the boy looks at her. "The-the Commandant said he was going to feed me to the Wookies if I didn't behave."

"The Commandant was wrong," Jyn Erso says over Chewbacca's growl. "And he was hurting you. That's why we came to take you away."

"You're going to take me away?" The boy looks up at her. "Really? Do you promise?"

"I promise," Jyn Erso says firmly. 

"We all do," Cassian says and smiles down at the boy. "I'm Cassian, that's Bodhi, Baze, Chirrut and Kaytoo."

The boy follows his pointing finger, mouthing the names to himself. He looks back up at Jyn Erso and after another moment of hesitation, he reaches out to take her extended hand. "I'm Armitage. Armitage Hux."

"It is very good to see you, Armitage Hux," Jyn Erso says in a gruff voice. "May I see where you are hurt?"

Red blinks at her. Then he pulls up his shirt. Open wounds, slashes from his shoulders to his hips leak blood across his back. Cassian says something savage. Rook looks sick, swallowing thickly. Guardian Malbus' face darkens but he pulls some bandages from his belt. Jyn Erso touches Red's cheek lightly with her fingertips. "That looks like it hurts a lot. We'll put some bandages on it until we get to the ship and we can put bacta on it."

"It was only ten," Red touches the tear track on her cheek. "It wasn't bad."

Chewbacca howls, the emotion in his chest too much to bear. How could anyone strike a child with such violence? The Commandant died too quickly. The Empire did not die quickly enough. Cassian's droid scrutinizes Red. Its tone sounds disapproving. "I count twelve lacerations."

Red ducks his head. "I got two for crying."

"That was wrong," Jyn Erso gently cups his face, careful of the bruises from the Commandant's brutality. "He had no right to do that. If you have to cry, you can cry. Okay?"

"...okay," Red repeats doubtfully.

"Baze and I are going to bandage you up, okay?" Jyn Erso says. "It is going to sting a bit but it will stop the bleeding until we can get you bacta. Cassian and Kay are going to work out our route out of here."

"I have intercepted a transmission from New Republic forces," Kay says. "They have been alerted that fighting has broken out in the Academy and are stepping up their assault. The Academy defenders are likely to be occupied and demoralized following the loss of their commander. If we utilize the older escape route, we will likely be able to pass unnoticed."

"Let's do that then," Jyn Erso knots the bandages and Red lets her pick him up. He can't weigh much. "I want everyone paying attention all the same. Let's not take stupid chances now, understood."

Chewbaca warbles agreement, trying to keep his voice down so he does not scare Red any further. Wide eyes peek up at him over Jyn Erso's shoulder and as they duck out of the far door, heading for the emergency escape route, a small hand sneaks out to pet his fur lightning fast.

"Soft," Red whispers and Chewie pats his head very gently. Jyn Erso is humming and Red's eyes go wider still. "That's my mamma's song! Do you know my mamma?"

"No," Jyn Erso tells him. "I learned that song from a very good friend of mine. He used to hum it when I was sad or hurting."

"My mamma did that," Red says. "She sang when I was sleeping or if the Commandant was shouting at me. Before she-she got sick."

"She loved you very much," Jyn Erso says. Chewbacca sees Cassian's droid turn its head as if to speak but Cassian shakes his head. Chewbacca agrees. No loving mother would have left her son to the Commandant's mercy if she had strength to resist. He knows Mallotabuk would fight until her last drop of blood was spilled to protect any of the cubs of their tribe.

"Quiet," Guardian Îmwe raises a hand. "There are guards ahead."

Chewbacca turns his focus to the threats ahead. The Academy is mortally wounded but even a mostly dead beast can gore the unwary. They thread their way through the ill-maintained tunnels and out through the soggy foliage as overhead TIEs and X-wings spin complicated patterns. Lando is waiting for them, a few dead troopers hidden the ditch behind him and Han is pacing on the ramp of the _Falcon_ as they run down the road.

"Kriffing _finally_ ," Han says but his scent is pure relief as he catches Chewbacca's arm. "You find him?"

" _We did,_ " Chewbacca tells him, " _but we will need medical supplies._ "

"Huh," Han stares at the small figure still cradled in Jyn Erso's arms. "Don't think we have much on board but we could always ask Trarodd. She's sure to have some spares we could take."

" _Will she be willing to help?_ " Chewbacca asks doubtfully.

"You just leave that to me," Han grins at him.

* * *

The New Republic flagship is a repurposed exploration ship from the days of the Old Republic. A Selenite ship that is familiar to Baze and Chirrut from the peaceful days of before. Commodore Trarodd welcomes them on board personally and gladly offers to share medical supplies. They do not bring Armitage out of the _Falcon_. Unspoken but understood; it is too risky and Rogue One are not willing to test their luck any further. It barely requires any subterfuge even. The good Commodore knows the stories of Rogue One and of Han Solo.

They get their supplies and their privacy for the low price of spending time inspiring the New Republic's newest recruits. Baze remains in the _Falcon_ with Armitage. Solo leaves his child sleeping in the other cabin. Armitage is deeply asleep. He was struggling to keep his eyes open even before the pain-killing medicines were dispensed. Baze knows the signs. Without fear of the Commandant and the pain, his exhaustion has triumphed. It will be better for him to sleep. The bacta will heal the worst of his wounds and he will wake refreshed.

Baze leaves for less than a minute to fetch a jar of oil for his blaster. He watches the corridor to the main compartment and keeps an ear open for the return of the others. He hears nothing, sees nothing until he comes back into the cabin and a looming figure is crouched over Armitage's cot.

He goes for his blaster. The air constricts and he tastes the bitterness of the Dark on his tongue. The figure does not look at him. A black-gloved hand rests on Armitage's bandaged back and spans it easily. Armitage is still slack with sleep and does not stir even when the hand cups his cheek.

" _So much pain,_ " the figure speaks through a vocoder. Baze thinks of Vader and strains to break the invisible hold. " _Always in pain, always frightened. He saved so many...why not himself?"_ "

Baze growls low in his throat, eyes on the boy.

" _To die for love,_ " the figure threads its fingers through the soft red of Armitage's hair. " _The Jedi believed that was the greatest expression of love in sentient life. How much greater to die a dozen times, a hundred? A hundred thousand?_ "

A static hiss, like a sigh or a sob.

" _I never...it was never the right time. It was always better to wait. He loved me. He never loved another. There was always something to do. There was always time. Until there wasn't. I looked away and he was dead before I realized the danger. I...I did what destiny required of me. I did not want any victory without him. When Death came for me, I was ready._ "

The figure rubs a thumb against the dark circles under Armitage's eyes.

" _But when I searched for him in the Force, I could not find him._ " Baze feels the ache of those words in his own chest and huffs a breath. " _Already gone. Back through decades, back to the living. All to save me. No-one else could. No-one else would even have tried. He tried and he succeeded...and he didn't save himself. Why didn't he save himself?_ "

Baze thinks back to those mad final days, when the Empire had seemed unstoppable. He thinks of the red-haired man, thinner than ever but as driven as the rest of them. That last mission, creeping on board the Death Star and stealing medical supplies, and the unspoken understanding that this would be an end, for good or ill.

" _He saved me,_ " the figure sets the boy back on the cot and the blankets draw up around him. " _For no reward save my happiness. With no expectation. How foolish..._ "

Baze snarls with his whole being, throwing himself against the invisible bonds that hold him. The figure does not even look at him, stroking Armitage's hair back from his face. Baze cannot even be certain that the figure remembers he is even there, so focused it is on the boy.

" _How foolish to believe I would not follow him,_ " the figure's barely whispering. " _That I would not fight as fiercely for him as he fought for me. The Jedi will not take him. The Remnants will not have him either._ "

"Jedi?" Baze manages before the force around his throat and mouth contracts. He struggles to speak but no sound escapes.

" _The Jedi believe that strength in the Force entitles them to a lifetime of servitude,_ " there's a dark undercurrent to the anger he hears, " _they will use him until there is nothing left. As the Order did before. I will not allow it. He has given more than enough. He has earned his happiness._ "

Baze growls. He tries again to force words from his frozen mouth. Nothing. The dark figure bends over the boy.

" _I will not let them hurt you,_ " it sounds like a promise. The figure rises and turns to face Baze. " _If you do not protect him, I will return._ "

Baze strains for his blaster as the figure looms over him. He is thrown backwards and his head smacks into the bulkhead. Baze sees constellations of stars. When he gets his feet under him, the figure is gone. Baze gets his hand around the grip of his blaster, blinking to clear his vision. He does not think that he was knocked unconscious but his head is still ringing from the impact. He looks out into the corridor but there is no sign of the figure nor any sign of his passing.

When he turns back to the bed, he sees a mop of curly hair. Solo's child is standing at the edge of the bunk, peering over the top. The child turns to look at him with wide eyes. "Petty!"

Baze approaches and the child points again. "Pah-retty!"

Armitage's hair is still spread out across the pillow. Baze grunts at the child as he checks Armitage is not injured from the intruder's manhandling. Solo's child continues to watch with wide eyes. Baze draws the blanket up; Armitage is too thin and the air is cool. He doesn't want the boy to catch a chill. Solo's lad looks up at him. "I touch? Pweez?"

"He is hurt," Baze tells the child. The child's lower lip wobbles and the wide brown eyes fill with tears. Baze crumbles like ill-set sandstone and sets his blaster aside. "So you must be careful. And gentle."

"Caweful," the child nods solemnly. "Up?"

Baze hefts the little body easily, tiny hands already reaching out to touch Armitage's hair. "Gently."

"Gent-ee," the child repeats. "Petty!"

Baze supervises but the child just pets Armitage's hair with exaggerated care. He looks up at Baze with wide eyes. "Soft!"

Before Baze can tug the child away, Armitage's eyes flutter open. He paws sleepily at his pillow and the child gasps. Armitage peers up at the child hazily. His eyes are almost black, pupils dilated by the medicines and lingering effects of bacta. 

"Hi!" the child beams and Armitage smiles back, eyes closing again. The child hugs Armitage's arm, snuggling closer and Baze sighs. He draws the blanket up over both children. Solo's child is likely as stubborn as his mother and father both and Baze does not want Armitage disturbed. Besides, there is a comfort in having another close when unwell. Armitage's hurt might be more serious than the sand-fevers that plagued Jedha but comfort is comfort and Force knows the boy could do with all the comfort he can get.

Baze pulls the collapsible chair up to the side of the bunk and lays his blasters out where he can reach them in a heartbeat. Both of the children are breathing easily, eyes closed and Baze settles himself into his seat to watch over them. There will be time to brood over the intruder later.

* * *

Jyn can't settle, pacing between the cabin where Armitage is sleeping with Ben Solo curled into his side and the main cabin where Cassian is drumming his fingers on the table and Baze is aggressively cleaning his blasters. In the cabin, Chirrut is seated on the floor beside the bunk, eyes closed and staff laid across his knees. Kay is lurking in the shadows, only his glowing photoreceptors flickering as he tracks every movement. He still has her blaster cradled in his long arms but he's at least put the safety on.

Bodhi is in the cockpit with Lando, the flamboyant General still loudly praising his flying. Jyn pauses by the hatch but Bodhi doesn't look upset, just quiet. He catches Jyn's eye and he offers the nervous smile that she thinks of as his 'work now, panic later' smile. She steps away. She actually isn't sure where Han's gone. She suspects that he's questioning Chewbacca about what happened back at the Academy. He's smart enough not to try demanding answers from the rest of them.

She passes Baze again and the Guardian pauses when she catches his eye. Jyn isn't sure what's upset Baze; he'd seemed fine when they left him on watch but he's brooding at something. There's no point in pushing him. When Baze is in this sort of mood, the only thing to do is wait it out. Even Chirrut can't make his husband talk unless he wants to.

"Jyn?" She pauses, looking over at Cassian then she takes his outstretched hand and lets him draw her down to sit beside him. Cassian is nervy in the way that means he's fretting and jittery. In this mood, Cassian needs to talk as much as Baze refuses to. Jyn winds their fingers together and squeezes lightly. "I...we talked...we thought...I hoped but I-?"

"I see why he never spoke of his family," Jyn says because that's the thought that's been running through her head since they left the Academy. She had suspected that there was nothing good. Red had never really worked to dispel the idea that he just appeared out of nowhere. Jyn had presumed he was another lost child like her but even in her darkest days, Jyn had never doubted that she had been loved. Her mother, her father...even Saw, as best he could manage, had loved her.

"How could he?" Cassian addresses the question to the whole room. "How could he grow up in the shadow of that...that monstruo and still be Red?"

"I don't know," Jyn answers honestly. She can't imagine how but she saw the echoes of Hux's hard edges and sharp tongue when he was exhausted and frustrated. The Commandant had been practically the Empire personified. "No wonder he hated the Empire so much."

That gets a grunt from Baze. Cassian squeezes her hand. They sit in silence, each with their own thoughts. Jyn thinks of Hux and has to rub her eyes fiercely. She can barely breathe through the useless guilt clogging up her throat. Logically, it's stupid; he never said anything. She still feels like she should have guessed. She should have seen something. Hours, days and nights spent with Hux, planning and just talking when they couldn't plan any more. She can almost taste the kaf and smell the taurine tea that Kay always kept on hand. She should have seen _something_!

She hadn't. Jyn already knows she'll be dealing with that guilt for a while. She's definitely not going to be the only one, either. She feels a surge of anger. Why hadn't she known? Why hadn't he told them?! Everything he'd done for them and he still hadn't trusted them with this?

The anger fizzles as fast as it came. Jyn thinks of the Commandant and the cruelty in every line of his face. She wouldn't have wanted to remember him. She doesn't regret that Chewbacca killed him. She only wishes they'd put the pieces together sooner. Cassian kisses the top of her head.

"He didn't want us to know," Cassian says. "He never wanted anyone to notice when he was hurt."

"I still wish we'd found him sooner," she says and he hums agreement. Baze snaps the slide of his blaster back into place and glares into the middle distance. The silence stretches out again until Han comes back into the main cabin. The smuggler takes one look around at them and Jyn's wincing before he even opens his mouth.

"Wow, and here I thought that'd been a _successful_ mission."

"It was," Jyn says. "It was just-"

"-the Academy was a horror," Cassian finishes. "It is one thing to know the Empire was a horror. It is another to see that horror. The Empire is fallen but the Commandant was still torturing those around him as if the Emperor was there to reward him."

"Well, we saved the kid," Han says. "That's a win."

"Yeah," Jyn nods. "Much to your kid's delight."

"Is he still sleeping?" Han crosses to stick his head in the cabin. "Well, I'll be karked. That's the longest he's slept since Leia went off to do her Jedi thing."

"I thought children his age slept all the time," Jyn observes.

"He does," Han looks bone-weary. "He just doesn't stay asleep. We don't know why and he's not old enough that we can ask, you know?"

"He is currently engaged in REM sleep," Kay chimes in. "He shows no sign of waking."

"That's good," Han paces back around. "Chewie said that the kid threw someone around. He looks a little ...tiny."

"The Force is a great equalizer," Cassian says wryly.

"Another damn Jedi. Well, that's just _great_." Han readjusts his jacket and fusses with his holster. Jyn has to hide a smile. Han's the one who married into the most Force Sensitive family in the Galaxy.

"Red wasn't a Jedi," Baze says tersely.

The conversation stalls for a second but Baze doesn't seem inclined to add anything further. Han clears his throat. "If he can use the Force, the Jedi will teach him."

"I suppose," Jyn doesn't really have any reason to argue. She doesn't like the idea. They've just found him and they're giving him to someone else? It would be one thing if they'd found Hux, full-grown and articulate. The boy they did find seems terrifying fragile and Jyn wants to take him away, find that quiet little planet they'd intended and let him grow up happy and safe.

"The Jedi are the best ones to teach him," Han says, a little awkwardly. "They think the Galaxy of him."

_That's the problem,_ Jyn thinks. Hux's relationship with the Jedi had been complicated. Most of them remember Red as a heroic figure, saving the Order from Sidious's hate. The ones who actually knew _Hux_? There's a lot of emotion there. A lot of guilt. That's without even touching the whole Skywalker family. She believes that Anakin Skywalker is redeemed or at least that he's never going to turn to the Dark Side again. He's learned better. Jyn is almost certain of that. She's not sure that he's dealt with any of the archive's worth of issues he has around Hux. 

"We'll be landing soon," Han says. "I think."

"Five minutes!" Lando calls back. Jyn breathes deeply. She wishes they had more time. She wishes that she'd asked Han to take them back to their own ship, taken some more time to work through the shock before they had to give him up again.

"I should wake them up," Han takes a half step towards the cabin.

"No need," Chirrut calls. Jyn gets up and Han follows her to the cabin door. Ben is yawning and Armitage is blinking slowly. He turns his head to blink at Ben. Ben stops rubbing his eyes and beams at Armitage.

"Hi!"

"Hello," Armitage blinks at him. "I thought you were a dream."

"Nuh-uh," Ben's curls whip the air as he shakes his head. "'m Ben!"

"It's nice to meet you, Ben," Armitage says it like he's reciting a lesson. "My name is Armitage Hux."

"'S nice to meetcha Ama-am...'tidge!" Ben's smile is radiant.

"Time to get up," Jyn tells them and Armitage hisses a little as he pushes himself up. "We should change those dressings."

"Come on, Benny boy," Han lifts his son out of the bunk. "Let the General work."

Ben doesn't look pleased but he allows his father to settle him on a hip while he watches Jyn and Chirrut check the bandages. There's some dried blood on the bandages and the bacta is dark when she peels a corner back to check.

"It doesn't hurt," Armitage tells her earnestly. "It itches."

"That means that the bacta has done its work," Chirrut assures him. Kay fetches fresh dressings without comment as Jyn unpicks the knots. The ghoulish slashes are scabbed over, maybe halfway to healing. Armitage wriggles a little when Jyn cleans the scabs but he tells her that it's not sore, "just tingles."

Jyn puts fresh bacta dressings over the worse of the whip slashes and helps Armitage pull on a shirt that Han found in one of his cargo bays that's only a little bit too big for the boy.

"Ben's clothes are too small," Han says breezily, "or I'd offer."

"This shirt is very nice," Armitage tugs at the hem. "I've never had one with colours before."

"Well, we can't have that," Han manages. "You keep that shirt. Looks better on you than it would on me and Chewie doesn't really wear shirts. It's a Wookie thing."

Jyn ducks her head to hide her smile as she puts away the medical supplies. She holds out a hand to help Armitage out of the bunk. He doesn't let go. Jyn says nothing, just keeps hold of his hand. Chirrut is standing by the door, staff tapping against the decking. The _Falcon_ rattles as they come out of hyperspace. Armitage holds her hand a little tighter, chin lifting a little as he swallows.

"It will be all right," Jyn assures him. He glances doubtfully up at her. "I promise."

Han's already lowering the ramp, Ben peering back over his shoulder. Cassian smiles at Armitage. Bodhi's chewing on his lip, fingers fiddling with the clasp of his jacket. Baze is watching the ramp descend as if he's expecting a squad of stormtroopers to burst in. Kay is standing right behind Jyn, still holding her blaster. Chirrut tilts his head at Baze who steadfastly refuses to look at him.

Han and Chewbacca are talking with Ahsoka and Master Vildadarn already. Ben's still looking over his father's shoulder as they come down the ramp. Jyn knows Ahsoka but she knows very little about Master Vildadarn. What she does know is not promising; the Jedi irritates Baze and Chirrut's perpetual cheer takes on a hard edge whenever they're in the same room.

"General Erso," Master Vildadarn brushes past Han, ignoring Chewbacca's bared teeth, "this is the child, I take it?"

"This is Armitage, Master Vildadarn," Jyn puts the lightest stress on Armitage's name. "Armitage, this is Master Vildadarn. He's one of the Jedi Masters."

"Hmm," Master Vildadarn strokes his chin. "There will have to be tests, of course. I can definitely sense something in his Presence. Very intriguing. Well, we will see. And orphaned, Captain Solo tells me? All the better, he'll adapt faster without external attachments. We are very grateful to you for bringing him to us. Come along, boy."

Jyn might have done something anyway but it's the half step, barely more than a shift of his weight, as Armitage leans closer, fingers tightening around hers that tips her over the edge. She squares her shoulders. "He doesn't have to go with you if he doesn't want to."

"Of course he has to come with me," Master Vildadarn sniffs. "Who else is going to take in an Imperial orphan?"

"We-" She falters. She hasn't had the chance to talk to the others and they're not part of the Rebellion anymore. She doesn't have the right to speak for them. She can only speak for herself. "I will."

Armitage looks up at her, wide-eyed. Then Bodhi steps up beside her, hands jittering. " _We_ will."

Baze's grim expression melts into a fierce smile and Chirrut positively beams at the Jedi even as he steps up to stand on Jyn's other side. When she looks at Cassian, he steps up to set one hand on Armitage's shoulder and wrap the other arm around her waist even as Master Vildadarn sputters.

"You can't just take the child!"

Kay casually raises the blaster and pointedly disengages the safety. "I believe you will find that in fact, we can."

"Kay," Cassian chides but there's no power to the word. Armitage is staring up at them, fear and hope mixed in his expression. Jyn smiles at him and draws him closer to her side. "We don't need to threaten the good Master."

"We don't," Jyn agrees. Chirrut smiles and spins his staff idly. Master Vildadarn glares at them. Baze glares right back.

"The boy belongs with the Jedi!" Master Vidadarn argues. "You have no right to take him!"

"Armitage belongs with people who will love him," Jyn says firmly, her little family around her. "He belongs with us."


	3. The world awaits,  so don't make any plans

Kadia stumbles sideways as the drop ship hits the dirt. Two of his men slam into bulkheads face first and there's a burst of curses from across the hold. Kadia hushes them. He's listening for the sound of blasters but all he can hear is the endless hiss of the rain. The Devorian in the pilot's seat curses up a storm as the ship lurches again.

"What's happening, Brollest?" Kadia calls.

"Karking fracking planet," Tuhk shouts back, hammering at the console. "Is there anything that isn't water-logged?"

"The Empire's blasters?" Chuss hauls him back onto his feet. Kadia grunts and she nods at him. Good girl. Well, not a girl. The Empire had seen to that. His best fighter for these past five years. She still hasn't sewn on her lieutenant's bars, too wary of anything that shines. "Can we drop the ramp?"

"Yeah, sure," Tuhk hits the control and the steam boils away some of the fog. "Go! Go!"

The ground is saturated, the grey mud sticking to boots and tripping up the over-eager. Kadia hauls a Nautolan kid out of a puddle and starts barking orders. The Imperial Academy looms over them, a hulking shadow through the rain and fog. There is some sporadic fire from the defenders and Kadia hears indistinct shouting across the comms. 

"Spread out!" he calls, waving his blaster towards the Academy. "Don't give them a target!"

The whine of the heavy blaster on the wall over their heads sends everyone scrambling for cover. The first shot cuts through the hull of one of the drop ships and the explosion throws Kadia and Chuss off their feet. The mud cushions their fall but Kadia spits to clear the grit. His blaster pulls loose with a sucking squelch. Chuss pulls him towards the walls. The gateway is open but even as they make it under the square arch, they can hear the tramp of marching boots.

"Come on," Chuss pulls Kadia past the rusted gate. "Commodore Trarodd says there's still some ships in the Academy docks. They're trying to run."

"I'm coming," Kadia looks back at where stormtroopers are swarming out to meet the New Republic commandos. "Look sharp!"

"I'm sharper than a bounty-hunter's sights," Chuss fires into the mass of white-armoured figures following them through the gates. 

The fight turns vicious fast. It's dirty, desperate work. The Empire's troops are cornered beasts. The Siege has whittled away all but the most fanatical and they're past caring about what happens to them. Some damned cur sets off a thermal detonator in the lower levels. The comms channels fill up with casualty reports and the cries of the wounded.

"Fracking bastards," Chuss spits. "Can't they just lie down and DIE?"

"Don't let them get to you," Kadia reminds her. "We've spent too damn long fighting this battle to let them get to us now."

"You're right," she ducks out from cover and shoots the flametrooper blocking the stairwell right between the eyes. Kadia claps her on the shoulder as he darts up the steps.

They're starting to see more of the officers; shadows in the mass of white duraplas and shrill voices shouting orders. Resistance is getting stiffer. Their squad is down to five when Chuss pauses, hand lifting to her ear.

"We're getting some intelligence," she calls and Kadia waves Wwraarrr past him. The Wookie roars something, bow-caster firing wildly. Bodies fall in the big Wookie's wake. Dried grey mud and fresh blood leave a trail. "Some new troopers? Or officers, maybe? The comms are spotty. All these walls are blocking the signal. I'm getting like, one word in four."

"Any descriptions? Locations?" Kadia knocks a chunk of mouldy plaster off the wall and the smell wrinkles his nose. "Or are we just supposed to hope we blunder into them?"

"They're close," Chuss listens intently. "Best guess is they're going for the Archives. It's between us and the spaceport."

"Well, I suppose we've nothing better to do," Kadia rolls his eyes and Chuss laughs. 

"They're wearing robes," she raises her voice so the rest of the squad can hear. "Looks like they might be some of Palpatine's mystics."

"Force-users?"

"Not that I've heard," Chuss flashes him a worried smile. "And we'd be hearing about it if they were."

"I don't like this," Kadia shakes his head but Wwraarrr is bursting open a door. Desperate troopers fire wildly but they're starting to break. There's only one officer and Wwraarrr shoots him through the heart in the first savage attack. Chuss is hunkered by the door, picking off any trooper that tries to rally the Imperial troops. It's frantic shooting for several minutes then Wwraarrr tears the last trooper limb from limb in a bloody rage. Chuss straightens up from where she was hunkered over one of their squad and shakes her head at Kadia. It's down to the three of them. They press on.

"I think I see something!" Kadia tracks the flicker of movement with his blaster. The lights are out, only the meagre grey sunlight creeping in through the high, narrow windows. Wwraarrr is growling low and deep. They squelch across soggy carpet, rain gusting through broken windows. The troopers they run into fight like droids, throwing themselves forward and firing wildly with no care for cover. "More karking troopers. How many can they have left?" 

"Enough?" Chuss says.

" _No, not enough to stop us,_ " Wwraarrrr snarls.

Kadia's starting to think that they must have missed the strangers in robes when Wwraarrr turns suddenly down a maintence corridor. There's no light and Kadia nearly trips following Wwraarrr into a claustrophobic little room with glowing terminals. Two figures are standing before the screens. They turn as Wwraarrr crashes through the door.

There's a screech of electricity. A sudden light. Kadia reels back. His vision clears. Wwraarrr is face down. One of the robed figures is skimming through records. The other is looking at him. Kadia raises his blaster. "Chuss! Over here!"

She comes running. Good girl, Chuss. Kadia's sweating. He can't look away. He can't see anything, just a void under the hood. His heart is pounding.

"Force save us," Chuss gasps. Kadia jerks his head to look at her. She's got her blaster up. Pointed at him.

"Chuss! Don't!" He gestures at the figure. "Can't you see them?"

She won't look. Kadia howls his frustration. He shoots. Empties the whole charge into the faceless robed figure. The thud of the body hitting the floor. He breathes. Looks back and Chuss is gone. He looks around and-and...she's on the floor. Smoke rising from her chest. 

"What-what?"

"Captain Otreya," the voice that seeps into his ears is cold as space. "There is another task for you."

"A-another?"

For a moment, an endless instant between heartbeats, Kadia's mind cracks open. He is kneeling on a bare deck. His mouth is full of blood. The robed figures that look down at him are all hooded. All black as the space between stars. Kadia cannot even curse them. His mind is unravelled. His will is spent. One steps forward and he cannot remember its name. He knew it but that knowledge has been taken along with all the rest. He remembers only the mask. Then there was pain. He sees himself being dumped in a shuttle. Sent back to the Rebellion. Back to the Fleet that will be sent to Arkanis.

Kadia screams but the air that catches in his throat only forms a heaving sob. Wwraarrr and Chuss are motionless. He can see the shot, a knot of singed fur and blood, on Wwraarr's back. He can see the purple-red of Chuss's organs, even the pale shape of her spine at the centre of the scorched ring left by the blaster. He screams but the voice continues, soft and poisonous and Kadia fights to get the blaster up. To his temple if he can't shoot the figure in front of him.

They laugh.

When the others find him, Kadia remembers only the troopers fighting to save the archives. He's still clutching his blaster, the barrel turned to slag. The white-armoured bodies are piled high enough that they almost block the door.

He's back in the ship, struggling weakly to keep them from stuffing him in a bacta tube when Commodore Trarodd tells him that Chuss and Wwraarrr were killed by the troopers. Their bodies have been found. Kadia has to be sedated and he goes into the tube swearing that he'll kill every Imperial bootlicker still polluting the Galaxy.

* * *

Luke chews his lip. It's so quiet in the little cave that he can hear the faintly metallic sounds of his father's pacing and feel the glowing Presence of the gathered Jedi. The five Masters who stand before the dark recess of the cave radiate serenity and patience. It is so hard not to reach for Leia. She doesn't need his help. Luke isn't stupid. Leia doesn't need his help and all he would do is make her look weak. He still wants to reach out for her. He clearly remembers his own Trial, that dark cave on Dagobah where his father's spectre had been waiting for him. He feels an echo of that fear and works to release it into the Force before it can distract Leia.

His sister's training has only strengthened the bond between them and Luke still hasn't grown accustomed to it. He selfishly hopes he never will; treasuring this constant awareness of his sister and her love. It feels like spring days on Tatooine, his aunt humming in the kitchen and his uncle grumbling at the droids. Her love for him, for Han and for Ben is the purest expression of the Light Side that Luke can imagine. It feels like home. Their bond is deeper and less complicated than the bonds Luke feels with their parents. Padmé has some Sensitivity to the Force. Not anything as strong as Anakin's but enough that Luke can feel her even with parsecs between them. His father...

Anakin's emotions are strong and get overwhelming if Luke probes too deeply. His father the Jedi is very different from his father the Sith Lord. Vader had seethed like the noon-time sands. Anakin Skywalker is more like a planet's gravitational field, drawing others into his orbit without intent or escape. Grief and gratitude in equal measure. Luke can't even put into words what he feels from his father but he thinks that he could drown himself in those emotions. Leia's stronger than he is and honestly, Luke might be overwhelmed.

Together, their family balances itself.

Even Han and little Ben, all of them. It's like an X-wing; everything has to be in place or it'll never take off. Leia is the balance to their father. She keeps them from being carried away by Anakin's emotions. It's why Luke can't settle, can't find serenity under his father's gaze and he rises to his feet. He deliberately turns his feet away from the dark opening and his father's restless pacing. 

He can't bring himself to leave the cave entirely but there is a sunny space by the entrance where he can hear the running water and smell the trees and grass beyond. This planet and the Jedi complex built here were too insignificant to attract the Empire's Hunters. It is a place of contemplation and peace. Nothing that Palpatine would value although his agents burned the library when they found the Guardians had hidden the books. Even that violence left barely a trace in the Force that thrums through the whole complex. Luke crosses his legs and settles into a light meditation. His breathing evens out and he releases his worry into the Force as much as he can.

' _Your concern does you credit, Luke,_ ' Ben's voice is barely a murmur. ' _Don't fret. Your sister is strong in the Force and strong-willed._ '

' _Her father's daughter, she is,_ ' Luke opens his eyes to see Master Yoda perched on a rock. ' _For good and ill._ '

' _She lacks his anger,_ ' Ben looks past Luke. He is almost entirely invisible in the bright sunlight. ' _Or his fear, rather._ '

' _Matured she has in a time of war,_ ' Master Yoda agrees. ' _Learned not to fear the unknown, she has. Wisdom she has learned._ '

' _And she's learned from him, Master Yoda,_ ' Ben says. ' _Anakin's path has been harsh but he has learned to master his temper._ '

' _The best and harshest teacher failure is,_ ' Master Yoda sighs. ' _Regret what was lost, he will._ '

"He does," Luke says sadly. "He regrets so much. It colours everything he does."

' _He always was over-dramatic,_ ' Ben says fondly. ' _Never did anything halfway._ '

It's strange to hear Ben talking about his father like that. He'd hated Vader so sharply. He'd never spoken of Anakin much. It feels right to listen to him fondly reminisce. Luke glances around. Ben and Master Yoda appear infrequently and for reasons that they never explain but usually if Luke sees two, he'll see the third.

"Where is Master Jinn?"

' _Playing with the children, he is,_ ' Master Yoda sounds fond. ' _Fond has he always been of younglings. A fine father he would have made if allowed the Code had._ '

' _I always expected him to take more padawans,_ ' Ben says. He sounds a little guilty. ' _He was always a good Master._ '

' _Regret his choices, Qui-gon does not,_ ' Master Yoda chides. ' _Proud of you, he always is._ '

' _I know,_ ' Ben says. ' _He was a great Master. Many could have benefited from his wisdom if he had chosen to teach rather than take a Padawan._ '

' _The will of the Force, it was,_ ' Master Yoda raises an ear. ' _His choice, it was and never did he regret._ '

"I can't imagine taking a Padawan," Luke says. "I would like to but I have so much to learn."

' _Always learning, a Jedi is,_ ' Master Yoda nods. ' _When right the time is, know you shall._ '

"I look forward to it," Luke says and feels a wave of sorrow from Leia that brings tears to his eyes. "What?"

' _Facing her fear, she is,_ ' Master Yoda's ears droop. ' _Closing the circle she is. Strong she is. Fear for her, you should not._ '

"Just because I know she's strong doesn't mean I don't worry," Luke argues. "I know what she can endure but that doesn't mean I don't want to support her!"

' _A good brother, you are,_ ' Master Yoda says.

' _She may not tell you what has happened for a long time,_ ' Ben warns, a distant look in his eyes. ' _The Trials are intended as a place to face your weaknesses and your failings. It is a harrowing experience and some things are better left in the past._ '

' _From the past, we must learn,_ ' Master Yoda says heavily. ' _Not dead, is the past. Blind to it, we cannot be. To forget the Sith is to allow them the advantage. Done this once, we have. Make this mistake again, we must not._ '

"But the Sith are gone," Luke says. "Sidious and Vader are dead."

' _Thought that before, have we,_ ' Master Yoda shakes his head. ' _So foolish, we must not be again. Still clouded the future is and a great shadow still over the Force lies. Complacent you cannot afford to be!_ '

Luke looks at Ben. Ben is frowning slightly but he nods when he catches Luke's eye. Luke swallows uncomfortably. He has the selfish thought that it's not fair. They won, dammit! But Luke is not the naive farm boy he used to be. He is a Jedi now and he has responsibilities. He focuses instead on feeling grateful. He has his sister, his father and even his mother to help him. Han and little Ben too. He is not alone. Whatever is coming, they will face it together.

* * *

"Hey now, let's not argue," Ahsoka says. It's the only thing she can think of to say. Master Vildadarn is furious but Rogue One are a solid wall of shared determination and intent. She should be working to mediate but she can't look away from the small boy tucked behind General Erso's leg. All she can actually see is tousled red hair and wide green-blue eyes. That's familiar enough but the Presence...

Ahsoka feels like a Padawan again. Too eager and too clumsy. The boy won't meet her eyes but even without the colouration, his Presence feels familiar. The shadowed glow. She wants to see the boy clearly. She wants to hug him. She wants to weep. She has a thousand questions. She still misses Hux and she can't talk about him to anyone since Rex retired to some small backwater to farm root vegetables. She can't decide what she's feeling the most intensely, much less release it into the Force.

Did Master Anakin know Hux had a son? Ahsoka tries to imagine it. She can't even imagine Hux having sex; he was attractive enough but she'd never seen him out of uniform. He'd never even taken his gloves off that she can remember. How old is the boy, four? Five at most, she thinks. Five years ago, Hux had been the ghost of the Rebellion. She never got the chance to ask what he'd been doing during the long days after her Master's fall. It warms her heart to think that he had found comfort somewhere. She hadn't liked thinking of him alone with his pain.

"You heard the Jedi," Captain Solo says airily. His eyes are sharp despite his light tone. He sets his son down and Benny toddles directly towards the other boy. He's beaming and the boy —Armitage, Jyn had called him— smiles back. It's a small careful smile, so like Hux that Ahsoka's heart seizes in her chest. Captain Solo holds out his hands. "Let's let the kids go have some fun while we talk about this."

Jyn meets Armitage's wide eyes, then looks at Kaytoo. "Kay, will you keep an eye on the boys while we deal with this?"

"Of course," Kaytoo surrenders its blaster to Cassian with some reluctance. "We can explore the local fauna. Doubtless there will be mud."

"I won't get dirty," Armitage promises immediately and Jyn's expression softens.

"You can get dirty if you want," she says reassuringly. "There are plenty of baths on this planet and all the best games get you dirty."

"Really?" Armitage looks at her distrustfully and Jyn crouches down so they're at eye level.

"Really," she promises. "And Kay always gets dirty when he goes outside to play so we're already going to have to give him a bath."

"I do-" Kaytoo cuts off at a pointed glance from Cassian. "I do. Mud is a very pervasive substance but very...satisfactory. To play with. Which I do. Frequently."

"Really?" Armitage looks up at him but he sounds more like a normal child.

"Mud!" Benny claps his hands. Chewie yips and Ahsoka's still not confident in her Shyriiwook but that sounded encouraging. Benny grabs for Armitage's hand and starts tugging the other boy towards the door. Armitage looks back at Jyn once more but this time, when she nods, he goes. Ahsoka wonders...? 

But the timelines don't work out. She's nearly certain Jyn didn't know Hux until Jedha but only nearly. Rogue One tell plenty of stories of Hux, to people who know how to listen, but there are things that they don't discuss with anyone. Most of those things are about Scarif and the path that took them there, a tapestry of myth and silences. Ahsoka wonders about the woman Hux had shed his uniform for. She hopes she was kind and strong. She wonders what he told this woman. Did he tell her all the things that everyone else was left to wonder? Was it a passing thing? 

Ahsoka can't believe it. Hux was always so careful and so deliberate. He gave his whole heart or nothing at all. He was so surprised every time she hugged him or Master Anakin threw an arm around his shoulders. He'd kept himself a step removed from almost everyone. He never entirely let down his guard. If he'd found himself in a stranger's bed, he'd have run every time. She's sure of that. 

Padmé had said once that Hux loved someone. They'd been on the little dock attached to her Naboo residence and Padmé had been...not drunk, exactly. Tipsy, maybe. Just enough of the Gungan punch to relax her inhibitions. Master Anakin had been tinkering with the speeder when Threepio made a comment about Hux. Something about how he still expected to see Hux standing beside Master Anakin. They talked about Hux then. The sort of conversation that made Master Anakin sad and sombre. Padmé said that she'd understood Hux so much better after she woke in the medical bay of Senator Organa's little waystation.

_"Love is so many things," Padmé's eyes had sparkled and she'd stared up into the darkening sky. "We tell stories about the joy of love. The joy and warmth and the good things. We forget the hard parts. We forget that love can be overwhelming. We forget how much love can cost."_

Ahsoka had shivered, she remembers. Padmé and Master Anakin make such a lovely couple now that it's hard to remember how tired Padmé had been in the last days of the Rebellion, how weighed down she'd been with sorrow. She wonders what Padmé will think when she finds out that Hux left a son. 

"Wonderful," Captain Solo says, recalling Ahsoka to the present moment. He glances at Chewbacca who nods and follows the boys and droid out into the gardens. 

"This is ridiculous!" Master Vildadarn snorts. "There's nothing to discuss. The boy is Force-Sensitive. He belongs with the Jedi."

"There is nothing to discuss," Jyn acknowledges. "Armitage belongs with us."

"You have no right-!"

"And you do?" Chirrut interrupts. His teeth are bared in a mockery of a smile. "What gives you any claim on him? The Force? The Force guided us to him in his time of need. It would seem that _that_ is the will of the Force!"

"He is Force-Sensitive!" Master Vildadarn insists. "He is meant to be a Jedi!"

Ahsoka catches Bodhi's eye. The pilot has his lips pressed tightly together but he shrugs his shoulders at her. He's not good with shouting, she knows but he seems determined to stand with his little family. Master Vidadarn tries again but he's not going to browbeat Jyn Erso without using the Force. (Honestly, Ahsoka wouldn't bet on it even then. Jyn has a very strong will.) He huffs off to fetch Master Ventriss and Ahsoka half-expects Rogue One to disappear while he's gone.

She would let them go, she thinks but Jyn smiles at her like she can see what Ahsoka's thinking. Ahsoka gets as far as opening her mouth to ask but General Calrissian comes in through another door with Major Bey a step behind him.

"General!" Shara Bey's smile lights up her face. "I didn't expect to see you here."

"Nor I you," Jyn accepts the hug. "What brings you here?"

"Leia's going through her Trials," Shara smiles. "I wanted to be here to congratulate her. I am going to go out on a limb here and say that's not why you're here?"

"No," Jyn shakes her head. "I might have sent best wishes if I'd known. Is she going to be finished soon?"

Shara glances at Ahsoka who shrugs. "It's hard to say but probably not."

"Then I need to ask you a favour," Jyn glances at Cassian. "Two favours, technically."

"Anything I can do to help," Shara says immediately.

"Firstly, we need you and Lando, if he's willing," Jyn tilts her head at Calrissian who smirks, "to put his name on official paperwork?"

"I'm willing to listen," Calrissian sing-songs. Jyn looks at Cassian who smiles in his turn.

"How much do you know about the War Orphans Act?" Cassian asks.

"It was what? The second Act that the New Republic's Senate passed," Calrissian says. "I'm familiar with it."

"Armitage has no living biological relatives," Cassian says evenly. "He qualifies under the Act and we want to adopt him."

"'We' being...?" Shara asks.

"All of us," Guardian Malbus says firmly. "Together."

"You're sure?" Ahsoka looks at Jyn. "This seems a little ...extreme. You know that Master Anakin would-"

"No," Jyn is echoed by Guardian Malbus and Chirrut both. Jyn looks at the Guardians then back at Ahsoka. "He would do his best. I believe that. But Armitage deserves better. He deserves a chance at peace."

"He would be loved," Ahsoka offers softly.

"And he will be loved with us," Jyn says implacably. Cassian nods along with her. Ahsoka can feel their shared determination like a wall through the Force. She doesn't really have any other argument. Ahsoka can't imagine them allowing any harm to come to Hux's son.

"We do not have your Master's ...history," Chirrut says. His smile is kind. "The Jedi are a necessary part of the Galaxy and exemplary servants of the Force but you forget that there are other ways to serve. The Path of the Jedi is not without its virtue but it is still just one way."

"I shudder to think how Armitage would develop under your ideals of self-sacrifice," Cassian says before Ahsoka can answer. Bodhi nods sharply, hands tucked into his armpits. "The Galaxy asked enough of Hux. It is time it gave him something in return."

"The Council may not be so easily convinced," Ahsoka warns them. "The tradition has always been for Force-Sensitive children to join the Jedi."

"Isn't he too old?" Bodhi says and winces like he wishes he hadn't spoken.

"That's changed," Ahsoka chides him.

"Then this can change too," Cassian's smile is razor-edged.

"What do you need?" Shara interrupts. "For the adoption? Do you need to nominate new parents?"

"The Act only says a recognized family unit," Bodhi pipes up. "We're a family."

"Well, I can't argue with that," Calrissian smiles widely and produces a datapad from inside his flowing cape. "Where do we need to sign?"

The paperwork is almost childishly simple but Ahsoka thinks that the signing of the Proclamation of the New Republic wasn't as solemn. Jyn signs first, then Cassian fits his signature under hers. As soon as he's signed himself, Guardian Malbus guides his husband's hand to the line and Chirrut signs with aplomb. Bodhi's scrawl is tiny by comparison but his hand is steady. Calrissian signs on the witness line and Shara signs under that. There's a space for a third witness. It's not required; two witnesses is enough.

Ahsoka holds her hand out for the stylus and Shara gives it to her. She signs as neatly as she can and sketches the stylized Jedi crest. It feels like she's failing her Master, the way she did when she skipped her meditation in favour of spending the morning teasing Rex. Mostly it feels like the right thing to do. She thinks that Rogue One will take good care of Armitage and really, it's not like they're going to take him away where she'll never see him again.

"Congratulations," Calrissian flashes his dazzling smile again. "It's a boy!"

Jyn and Bodhi laugh, the Guardians roll their eyes and Cassian shakes his head. Calrissian shakes hands, hugs most of them. Shara laughs and looks over at Jyn. "So, that's one favour?"

"I need to borrow your ship so we can get ours back," Jyn says ruefully. "We were in a hurry to get Armitage and we needed something faster so..."

"So she calls me up and hijacks the _Falcon_ ," Captain Solo finishes. His put-on tone is betrayed by the smile lurking around the corners of his eyes. Jyn's answering smile is fond. Cassian's smile is a little more forced.

"Well, I think Leia might be a while longer," Shara turns to Ahsoka who lifts a shoulder. It's impossible to know. Trials take as long as they take. "So I have no objections. You're not too far away, I hope?"

"No," Bodhi pipes up. "I'll go with you."

"Anyone else?" Shara looks around. "It's only a small ship so I can't take you all."

"No," Bodhi says before anyone else can. "Everyone else needs to-to stay. So Armitage doesn't think we've abandoned him."

The glance he steals at her is lightning fast. Ahsoka smiles at him. She's not offended. Bodhi's right. Master Vildadarn will huff and puff but Ahsoka's known him for years. He's strong-willed and very self-confident. He hasn't got a chance. 

Ahsoka wouldn't miss this for the world!

* * *

"I am coming as fast as I can!" C-3P0 says over R2's increasingly insistent beeping. "Wait for me!"

He is rather hoping that R2 is mistaken; why would General Erso's K2-unit be here of all places? The Jedi Temple is hardly where one needs a droid with no functional discretion or useful function. If C-3P0 were a lesser droid, he might leave R2 to handle the matter but the risk to any of his humans if they attempt to intervene is simply too high. R2 is more than capable of defending himself of course but R2 is not very diplomatic. 

Really, it is just like K2SO to show up and disturb a perfectly tranquil holiday like this! 

C-3P0 turns a corner to find R2 whistling aggressively at the aggravating K2-unit in question and Master Chewbacca playing with Ben. R2 extends his shock prod. The K2-unit reaches pointedly for a blaster. A blaster! Who has given him a blaster?! C-3P0 despairs of organics sometimes, he really does.

"Ahem!" C-3P0 interrupts before an actual fight can develop. "Master Ben, we were not expecting you or Master Chewbacca today. This is a very pleasant surprise!"

"Treepio!" Master Ben points at him. "Momma's dwoid!"

"Yes, that is correct," C-3P0 attempts to access files on human infant development. Is this regression normal? Rodian infants will regress verbally up to ten times in the first six years of their life. Master Ben has been able to manage an approximation of C-3P0's designation for three and a quarter standard months.

Master Ben beams at him and turns to another child who is mostly hidden behind Master Chewbacca even as he points emphatically at C-3P0. "Treepio!"

"I am C-3P0, human-cyborg relations and fluent in more than four million methods of communication. " C-3P0 thinks it is only prudent to introduce himself.

"Hello, Threepio," the other child says seriously as he emerges from Master Chewbacca's shadow. 

C-3P0 pauses.

His standard reply loads but there are alerts pinging through his secondary memory. C-3P0 has extremely limited experience with infant organics. Master Ben constitutes more than 96% of his sample size. He has extensive libraries of protocols concerning children and, as is standard with protocol droids, he possesses several algorithms to predict the effect of maturation on children. Most diplomatic relationships last for years and it would be very bad form to address a contact's grown children like strangers. In much the same way, C-3P0's visual processing circuitry includes multiple recognition sub-routines engineered to identify familial connections.

Those subroutines are responsible for the initial alert. The new child has scored exceptionally highly on familial resemblance to one of C-3P0's core 'family'. That initial alert was almost immediately buried under a positive barrage of other alerts and error messages.

C-3P0 takes in what all these alerts are trying to say and reboots his photoreceptors even as he rechecks the audio sample. The match is only 70% but his audio subroutines are considerably less efficient. C-3P0 brute-forces the audio subroutines to reverse-process the data. Based on the results, he calculates the true match would be close to 98%. His rebooted photoreceptors return the same visual match and the subroutines confirm it.

"Master Hux?"

"No, is Tidge!" Master Ben insists.

"Armitage," Master Hux corrects and well, that settles it.

"Oh, my circuits!" C-3P0 bends at the waist to inspect Master Hux. "Master Hux! It is you!"

R2 disengages from his argument with K2SO and rotates his photoreceptors to zoom in. C-3P0 is still logging the similarities. R2 reaches the same conclusion and starts whistling excitedly. Master Hux looks discomforted and turns to K2SO who moves sharply to intercept. R2 bumps into K2SO and is pointedly nudged back. Master Hux looks confused but Master Ben has already bored of the conversation and tugs him away. Master Chewbacca, now that it does not appear they are going to fight, turns to the trees and starts to collect twigs and branches. C-3P0 can only stare after Master Hux. R2 whistles at him and C-3P0 rotates his torso to look down at him.

"I assure you, I am _not_ malfunctioning!"

R2 reminds him that Master Hux was, as of their last encounter, a mature human male standing just under two metres tall. C-3P0 huffs. "This is hardly the most improbable act that Master Hux has ever performed."

R2 whirrs, processing that and begrudgingly concedes that point. 

"I was not aware that astromechs possessed facial recognition sub-routines," K2SO says snidely and really, it is just like him!

R2 extends his electric prod and K2SO glares down at him. C-3P0 shushes them both. Master Ben is distracting Master Hux quite effectively but Master Hux is stealing glances over at them. "We are being observed."

"You shouldn't upset him," K2SO says which is just so typical!

"I think you'll find that you are the one upsetting him!"

"I am not upsetting him," K2SO sniffs, drawing himself up to his full height which is just showing off. "I am protecting him."

"You?!" C-3P0 sputters. "Surely he should have a _proper_ nanny-droid!"

"I am capable of performing the same functions," K2SO says coldly. "And more importantly, I am capable of protecting Armitage from any harm."

"A likely story!" C-3P0 sniffs in his turn. Master Chewbacca brings over an armful of twigs, warbles at the boys and goes back into the trees when Master Ben demands "More!"

The lenses of K2SO's photoreceptors spin and refocus. It is an extremely crude attempt to intimidate that might work on ill-educated organics but C-3P0 is made of sterner stuff. He draws himself up and returns K2SO's narrowed gaze. R2 offers a most improper observation on K2SO's manufacturing origin and C-3P0 despairs. Really, he does. Surely basic courtesy subroutines would not take up egregious amounts of processing power?

K2SO redirects his attention to the two boys. C-3P0 is assembling his arguments but the other droid turns away. Very rudely in fact. He covers the distance between him and the boys in three enormous strides. (And really, what possible reason does a droid that was intended to work with humans need such long legs for?)

"You are sustaining damage," he says severely and retrieves a tube of some type of ointment from an internal storage bay. Master Hux seems as bewildered as everyone else but he submits to K2SO's clumsy application of the ointment. "Your skin lacks protection against solar radiation. You will sustain damage without additional protection."

"Okay," Master Hux holds still. "Thank you, Kay."

"You are welcome," K2SO says after a momentary pause.

"What about Ben?" Master Hux asks. K2SO turns his head to look at Master Ben who is tugging at Master Hux's shirt. "He doesn't have any protection."

"He is wearing a considerable amount of mud," K2SO observes but Master Hux folds his arms and scowls up at the taller droid. K2SO lasts exactly 1432 milliseconds before he sighs and turns to Master Ben.

"The mud will reduce the effectiveness of the cream," K2SO says even as he applies it vigorously. "You should stay under the trees. There is plenty of mud there but diffusion will reduce the intensity of the solar radiation. Do not forget to drink frequently."

"Okay," Master Hux smiles up at Kay. "We can still play in the mud?"

"Of course you can," K2SO says. 

"Do you want to play with us?" Master Hux seems entirely sincere. C-3P0 has to repeat the question to himself in disbelief. 

K2SO spares him a venomous glance. "Not at present. You should play with ...Ben."

"Master Ben's full name is Obi-Wan," C-3P0 calls, "if you find his day-to-day name too challenging."

K2SO stiffens in offense but surprisingly, he does not respond to C-3P0. Instead he bends to inspect Master Ben who offers him a sloppy handful of mud. "No. Thank you. What name would you prefer I use?"

"My name?" Master Ben blinks up at him. "'M Ben!"

"Ben, then," K2SO nods stiffly. "I am K2SO. Since you are a friend of Armitage's, you may call me Kaytoo. Or Kay."

"Hi, Kaytoooooh!" Master Ben waves enthusiastically. 

"Hello, Ben," K2SO says gravely. "You and Armitage should play some more. I will be here if you need anything."

"Okay!" Master Ben tugs Master Hux over to show him the mud. K2SO retreats to a vantage point, pointedly ignoring C-3P0 and R2 entirely. C-3P0 watches the boys play. Master Ben's habits are still inconsistent and lacking in internal logic but he and Master Hux seem to be enjoying themselves. R2 whistles softly and C-3P0 shares the results of his various sub-routines. R2 takes a minute to process the information; protocol droids and astromechs do not share any higher coding languages which means it takes a long time for R2 to render the information in a useful format.

R2 is kind enough to keep his incredulous cursing to a low whine, inaudible to organic auditory systems. C-3P0 feels considerable relief that R2 does not dispute his conclusions. R2 is blunt to the point of rudeness and fixated on precision as all astromechs are and if there were any flaws in C-3P0's extrapolations, R2 would point them out. R2 whirrs as he tries to derive some explanation for how Master Hux has become a child.

C-3P0 has no idea what has happened or how it has happened. He looks over to where Master Hux and Master Ben are playing just as K2SO lurches forward. Master Jinn has materialized beside the boys.

"Oh, my word!" C-3P0 lurches forward. "Master Jinn, we were not expecting you!"

' _I had to come,_ ' Master Jinn says benevolently. He hunkers down with the boys and magnanimously ignores the way that K2SO looms over him. The boys are fascinated with the small non-intelligent amphibians native to this region of the planet. C-3P0 queries R2 and is relieved to discover that they are not even mildly toxic. He thinks Masters Hux and Ben are constructing some form of obstacle course for the amphibians but he prefers not to get too close. His circuitry would be quite terribly compromised by the water and the mud. (He had an oil bath not two days ago and cannot hope for another for at least a week although that is a very minor consideration.)

"I wonder, well, truthfully, Master Jinn," he ventures. "I wonder if I could ask what you mean by saying that you _had_ to come?"

' _I wanted to see him for myself,_ ' Master Jinn does not look away from Master Hux who has his tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth as he constructs a lattice of twigs and leafs to better support Master Ben's ...creation of mud. The amphibians chirrup softly in rather a pleasant manner and do not seem to object to being clumsily dropped and picked up repeatedly. 

"See Master Hux?"

' _He was my friend,_ ' Master Jinn sounds melancholy. ' _A better friend than I deserved at times. I mean to do better this time._ '

"Explain," K2SO interjects himself rudely.

' _He is something new,_ ' Master Jinn says. ' _What he did has never been done before. I doubt it will be done again. It left him...changed. The Force flows strangely around him and that could be a dangerous thing._ '

"Dangerous how?" K2SO demands.

' _The Force flows differently around him,_ ' Master Jinn says quietly so not to distract the boys. ' _What that means, I do not know but there will be those who seek to exploit it. Too, I suspect that he may not be entirely ignorant of his past and 'Red' was a potent resource in his own right. He would be valuable. There is a Dark Presence casting a shadow over his future. I cannot see his future even from within the Force. He will face many dangers and much evil._ '

"Oh, how terrible!" C-3P0's involuntary exclamation makes the boys look up. Master Ben looks for Master Chewbacca. Once he sees the Wookie, still gathering twigs in the trees, Master Ben turns back to the mud. Master Hux watches C-3P0, chewing on his lip for several seconds before he looks up at K2SO.

"Is something wrong?" he asks the other droid in a very careful tone. C-3P0 gets almost no emotional feedback from his words. Very typical of Master Hux although it is alarming that he had such mastery of his emotional output as this age.

"Not at the present moment," K2SO says. "Master Jinn is speculating on future events. This location is secure and Cassian and the rest of Rogue One are very close by. There is no reason to be concerned. I am monitoring all possible threats."

C-3P0 despairs. Why would the Maker give a droid vocal circuitry if they won't learn to use them correctly? K2SO has managed to give entirely accurate information in the most unconvincing manner! And he assumes that he will be entrusted with Master Hux's future safety? C-3P0 is not by nature or programming a combat droid but he could smack the fool, really he could! 

But Master Hux only nods, relaxing as if K2SO had genuinely reassured him and turns back to the mud and Master Ben. K2SO emits a hum that is entirely too smug for C-3P0's liking.

"Surely we should do something," C-3P0 appeals to Master Jinn. "Call on the Jedi for assistance, perhaps?"

"The Jedi want him already," K2SO says with visible disapproval.

' _Of course they do,_ ' Master Jinn says. He almost sounds fond. ' _It is our way. We teach the young to find their place in the Force. That is not to say that he must be a Jedi, of course. Still, his future is linked with the Jedi._ '

"It doesn't have to be."

R2 whirrs and rattles off a string of expletives that heat C-3P0's circuits but...well, it's not as if C-3P0 _disagrees_ with the sentiments! K2SO refuses to even acknowledge R2, all of his attention on Master Jinn who is not intimidated in the slightest from what C-3P0 can see. The Jedi Master simply smiles kindly at the boys who are arguing over whether a smooth grey stone should go beside or on top of the obstacle course.

' _It already is_ ' Master Jinn tells them. ' _There is a bond between these boys. The type of bond that inspires great epics and myth. There hasn't been such a bond since Master Yoda was a youngling. They will do great things together._ '

* * *

The caverns are beautiful, faintly gleaming crystals threaded through the stalactites. The air is cool with an intermittent breeze that feels like a breath against her bare arms and legs. Most of all, she feels the Force filling the darkness and the brighter sparks of algae and more complex life-forms. The Jedi -the _other_ Jedi, she thinks- are a steady constellation at the mouth of the cavern, waiting to guide her back.

Leia is nervous but not afraid. She's been so busy. Being a mother, being a politician and training as a Jedi had devoured all her time. It had been rewarding but Leia can admit, here in the dark, that it was all to keep her from brooding. Leia feels the tears on her cheeks as she walks deeper into the caverns.

She can hear the whisper of water on stone and it's almost like she could open her eyes and see Alderaan's gardens. She can almost smell the perfume of the flowers and the clean incense her mother had favoured. It aches to know that she will never see those fountains outside of holos again. It _hurts_ to know that she will never again see her father smile or feel her mother's arms around her. It feels like trying to swallow a lump of lead to think that they will never meet Han, never meet Luke and never see Ben grow. She does not dwell on such thoughts but the dark is vast and still. Her grief seems so small when she breathes amid the shining splendor of the Force, a poisonous ink diluted to nothing in the vastness of the ocean.

Leia wonders what will happen now. The Masters had been infuriatingly vague about the Trial. Luke had told her about facing Vader in a hushed voice but Leia doesn't feel any sense of threat from the dark. She brushes her fingers over the lightsabre clipped to her belt but feels no need to draw it.

"What am I supposed to be doing?" Leia asks aloud.

_Look,_ comes the whisper like her mother in the night. _See._

The sound of water gets louder as Leia steps forward. Sudden light blinds her and the sound of other voices is almost deafening. She blinks repeatedly as her sabre jumps to her hand. The rush of water has become a roar. The light is brighter and she sees lush greenery. She knows the tenor of those voices and it isn't a surprise when two people dressed in Rebel overalls rush towards her. 

It is a surprise when they pass through her. Leia feels the faintest chill and she turns to look around. There's crates everywhere, people shouting orders and reports through the leafy undergrowth. She doesn't recognize the planet. She doesn't recognize the people. She doesn't recognize the squadron names either. It's like a dream; the sort where everything is just a little left of true. 

"Rose!" A woman bent over some crates straightens. "We've word from Commander Poe!"

"Okay," Rose bites her lip. "Where's the General?"

"With Maz," the Rodian who's checking the crates tells her.

"I'll tell her." Rose hands her battered datapad to someone else and turns towards the waterfalls. Leia follows her gaze. She can see a woman's back down among the flickering shadows of the waterfalls. Jyn? She steps forward and falters. It's not Jyn Erso. Another figure, smaller and passingly familiar, comes out to meet Rose. Maz Kanata? There's a moment where Leia thinks the old pirate sees her but her eyes flick past with only the barest of hesitations.

Maz stops Rose from going down the path. "She knows."

"But I-"

"The General knows," Maz says, almost motherly. "Leia knows what she must do to save her son."

"Kylo Ren's beyond saving," Rose says viciously. Leia barely hears her over the rush of blood in her ears.

"Perhaps." Maz looks back at the figure standing in the lee of the waterfalls. "But Ben Solo may not be."

Leia turns down the path, tripping over the uneven ground. She runs to see because it isn't true. It can't be! She runs. The woman waiting for her at the end of the path is not Jyn Erso. Leia stares at the solid figure. She can see an echo of Padmé in the dark eyes and Anakin in the shape of her face. It takes a couple of seconds to realize who she's looking at. Herself. Old and grieving.

The General? Leia staggers back, clutching her sabre like a child clinging to a night light.

_Luke,_ she hears the grief in the thoughts that come to her in her own voice. _Oh, Luke. I wish you were here. I wish you'd come to me. I didn't blame you. You were only one man. You made a mistake and I lost you all. And now you're all gone._

Leia reaches for the necklace around her neck, the General mirroring her. Han brought it to her after their hasty marriage and she'd kept it because it was something that wasn't utilitarian or functional. It was a pretty little thing bought to bring her joy.

_Oh, Han,_ the General's grief crests. _My fault. I shouldn't have sent you. Snoke was expecting you. Ben wasn't ready. I should have known._

Leia can feel the other woman's memories as clearly as if they're her own. Because they are. She's not sure how she knows but she knows this isn't just a vision. Her older self remembers...Han. His hair is white, his face creased and his movements a little stiffer and slower but his eyes are as blue as ever. His arms were bony but warm and solid around her. She can smell the stale air, the faint mustiness of the _Falcon_ clinging to his coat. She can feel his love, a steady warmth and the ache of emptiness where it isn't any more.

_Oh, Han._ Tears leak from closed eyes. _I wish you were here. Did you wait for me? Will you be there? Will Luke? Or am I the last one left? Did I fail that badly? What did I do to lose you all?_

Eyes closed, Leia reaches for her brother, finds his Presence as distant as the stars that are emerging as the sun sets and her heart still aches but she feels a little steadier. This does not have to be her future. She will not let it be her future. Almost as the thought forms, Leia feels the Force. This is not the future, she knows suddenly. This is the past. She does not understand and all her logic falters in the face of Force-granted surety.

She opens her eyes just as another figure appears. And it is an appearance. One second the General is alone, the next there's a very familiar figure standing over her. Red...no, _Hux_ looks so much more severe than she remembers him. There's a razor edge of cruelty in his eyes that Leia never saw. He looks...not younger but less _weary_ than he had. His Presence is different, a tangle of fear-pain-spite but she can feel the Presence that she knows under it like the depth of the ocean exists under the shallow fury of a storm. He still scares her. She thinks of the veterans of the Clone Wars that her father had known. She thinks of Saw Guerrera and the difference between the man her mother spoke of and the frenzied monster he became.

"You can't save him," Hux says and his accent is sharp enough to cut transpari-steel. "He doesn't want to be saved."

"General Hux," the General says. She is polite but remote.

"General Organa," Hux says. "You can't save him."

"I have to try," the General says. "He's my son. I can't just leave him to suffer."

"He clings to Ren," Hux folds his arms. "He's too afraid of facing what he's done. Ben Solo doesn't believe he deserves to be saved."

"I have to try," the General says.

"It won't work," Hux says. "You know it won't work. You can't save him now."

They argue some more but Leia misses chunks of it. They're such a strange pair; the old woman and the young man. The Empire or something very like it and the Rebellion, again. Leia has so many questions but no real hope of getting answers. She can feel her hold on this time (whenever it is) faltering. She's seen most of what she needs to see perhaps? She thinks she's going to slip away entirely when the scene comes into focus again.

"I can't," the General looks smaller and more worn. "I don't have the strength."

"You have enough strength for the sending," Hux says, "so send me."

The General looks up at him and the words hang in the silence between them. Hux tips his head and that's so suddenly familiar that Leia presses a hand to her chest. 

"You...I can send you back," the General says, "I think I can. My training...I've read about this but it's all theories."

"You don't have a choice," Hux tells her. "Ben Solo cannot kill his father. He's spent a year running from that fact. He's done everything his Masters ever taught him to escape that guilt and he. Failed. The Light is calling to him. He will be redeemed. But he'll never forgive himself."

"I know," the General snaps. She closes her eyes. "But what about you?"

"What about me?" Hux sounds baffled. For a moment he looks like he did on the Rebellion flagship when Rex saluted him.

"I can send you back," the General says. "I don't know how to bring you back."

"Don't bother," Hux's smile is vicious but all his venom seems self-directed. "I don't matter. An upjumped bastard of the Empire has no place in your Republic and there is no-one who will miss me."

"Not even Ren?"

Hux turns his face away from her. "Ren is a mask, not a man."

"I am old," the General says and her words are heavy. "I don't know if this will work."

"What else can we do?" Hux asks and she bows her head.

"Very well."

The Force gathers around her, around them both though Hux doesn't seem to notice. He's not as attuned to the Force as he was. The General lifts her hand and Hux looks down at her. He might open his mouth but the Force sweeps him away between one instant and the next. Only the General remains. She is diminished, barely more than a ghost against the greater Force. Leia reaches out, drawn by the grief and weariness to offer comfort and the General's eyes open.

She sees Leia and her hands fly to her mouth.

"Force be good," the General breathes. "It worked?!"

"I don't understand," Leia reaches out and the General reaches back and everything passes between them. She sees a jumble of memories; Han, old but still the great big hero, with Chewie at his shoulder: a girl with dark serious eyes holding Luke's sabre as the Force shines around her: Luke, old and bitter and soaked in recrimination and loneliness, looking like their father: a white planet with a red eye: a robed figure with a red, sputtering sabre. "What did you _do_?"

The General sucks in a pained breath; she's seeing Leia's memories and more than that the memories shared with her by Luke, by Padmé and by Anakin. Hux. Hux across the generations and the wars that ravaged the Galaxy. Hux with all the malice and madness stripped away. Hux standing to the side during victories uncounted. Hux standing alone as those around him fall. The pain. The weariness. Hux with his face shadowed by the starscape telling her not to be sorry. Hux, through Luke's eyes, a diminished shadow in the inferno of the dying Death Star. Fresh tears pour down the General's face.

"So long," she whispers. "So much _pain_. I never dreamed-! But he did it. He saved him. He saved us all."

"I don't understand!" Leia cries. The memories don't make sense. She can't connect the pieces and she doesn't have time. The scene is fading now, the roar of the waterfalls receding and the gathering night turns to darkness. The General smiles at her and Leia sees both her mothers in it.

"You don't have to understand," the General tells her. "It doesn't matter anymore. You needed to see. Be vigilant. There are still dangers. The Empire might be dead but its evil endures."

Leia reaches for her but the General too fades into the darkness. Leia is left alone, tears still running down her cheeks, with the echoes of her other self's memories ringing in her head. Grief, loss and an unexpected joy. She catches her breath even as she reaches and finds Luke (and Han, almost as close instead of across the Galaxy). She turns and follows the steady glow of their Presences out of the dark and back into the light. 

The light hurts her eyes and the older Jedi are there. Her father is there, relief softening the lines of his face. Leia goes straight to her brother who is already hurrying to meet her. She can feel her own desperation echo back from him and Luke opens his arms. She hugs him tightly enough that it must hurt but Luke just radiates support and reassurance. He can't see why she's so upset and Leia can't even touch those tangled memories without feeling her throat close from the power of that grief.

The other Jedi stay back, muted but present.

"Leia?" Luke whispers. "Are you alright?"

"I-" The reassurance sticks to her teeth. "Is Han here? I sensed him..."

"Uh, I think he is, actually." Luke looks around without letting go. "I could go get him?"

"We'll go together," Leia says but her smuggler always does know how to make an entrance. She hears his step outside the cave and Luke lets her pull him out after her.

"Hey there, princess," Han's smile evaporates and he hurries to catch her when she trips over a stone. He hugs them both, his genuine concern underlying his tone. "What's happened? What's wrong?"

Leia hugs them both as tightly as she can, letting the solid reality of them both chase away the ghosts of the General's memories. She buries her face against Han's chest and breathes around the solid lump of grief in her throat. It was only a vision, she reminds herself. Only a figment of her fears. It was a warning and she will heed it. That will not be her future. She will not let it be her future.

* * *

The dull red glow of the braziers does nothing to brighten the gloom of the chamber. The robed guards who stand like statues don't even seem to be breathing. The Inquisitor's boots are nearly soundless on the polished floor. The air is hot and thick, the whir of the air-cycling unit sounds like a roaring storm in the tense silence. The sky beyond the viewports is simply black, the distant stars too dim to see with the naked eye.

"You are certain?" the Inquisitor's mask gleams like pooled blood as it turns to the officers kneeling on the bare floor.

"Y-yes, Inquisitor. There could be no mistaking it."

The grating hiss makes the officers shudder as one. The Inquisitor pivots on their heel.

"Your reports were incorrect then, Captain Harrek?"

"N-no, Inquisitor!" Harrek fights to keep his voice from shaking. "I swear to you, the boy showed no signs of any ability with the Force!"

"And yet..." the Inquisitor paces closer. The faint musty scent of the Inquisitor's robes catches in his throat. The Inquisitor smells of ash and blood. The air sticks in his lungs as he breathes in. 

"The boy was closely monitored!"

"Not closely enough," the Inquisitor lifts a hand and the datapad rises from the floor. The display reflects on the mask as the Inquisitor brings up the images. The datapad floats above their open hand as they look at the Admiral standing at attention by the dias. The Admiral accepts the offered datapad without looking. He stares down at Harrek for a moment before he looks at the display.

Admiral Screed takes a long minute to study the images before he shuts off the datapad and turns his attention back to Harrek. "Tell me, Captain Harrek. How _did_ General Jyn Erso infiltrate the Academy without any of you noticing?"

"I-I don't..." he can't make the final word come. Inquisitor Tetrox dislikes being told 'I don't know'. "We had no intelligence suggesting that she was even in the sector! The last report I saw said that she had retired without taking a position in the New Republic! We were focused on the fleet!"

"A point," the Admiral turns from him. "Jyn Erso did not take command?"

"The final assault was ordered by Commodore Trarodd," another of the robed figures intones. "The _Millennium Falcon_ departed the sector before the assault began. There were no subsequent sightings of Rogue One or the Wookie."

"They only came for the boy," the Admiral says thoughtfully. "Only for the boy. How did they know he was there? Did they know he was there or were they looking for something else?"

Harrek shakes his head mutely. He does not know. He does not understand the Inquisitor's fixation on the whelp. He had assumed it was leverage against the Commandant, perhaps even a test of the Commandant's loyalty or his ability to cultivate the next generation of Imperial officers. He had never suspected the boy himself was important. The Inquisitor turns on their heel, looking at the Admiral.

"They knew," Inquisitor Tetrox says. "But how?"

"We must find out," the Admiral's mouth purses. "They have at least resolved the question of which boy concerns us. How kind of them. We shall have to reacquire the spare all the same. If the traitors reach out to them...well, we shall have to act quickly."

He turns to the thing on the throne. Harrek stares down at the floor. He can taste metal on the back of his tongue. His blood feels thicker as it pounds through his veins. He cannot look at the throne without feeling the screaming madness claw away what little reason remains. He does not hear what the thing says, only the Admiral's respectful reply. He does not look up even as the deck shakes with the thud of falling bodies. He does not look up. He will be safe as long as he doesn't look up. The hiss of the lightsabre makes him flinch, head coming up as a reflex. 

The last thing Captain Arteo Harrek sees is the thing on the throne.


	4. Think of me long enough to make a memory

It's surprisingly difficult to land. Well, difficult to land without drawing too much attention. The traders who come to this market all close up once the sun sets and the traffic from orbit dries up. The locals are suspicious and curious. Never a good combination when he wants to pass unnoticed. He lands under cover of darkness, relying on the gloom to hide the contours of his ship. He doesn't think anyone on this dirtball's even seen a bounty hunter but he never takes anything for granted when it's this client.

The best landing place is by the small sea where the off-world traders land. He counts maybe a dozen ships, most from the same system. He puts two extra blasters under his wrap. No sense in taking risks.

Every bounty hunter in the Guild has a story about Erso and her gang. He'd thought it was dreck but he'd never taken any of the contracts that got slapped on them. He'd seen too many names fall off the 'active' list after they took one of the bounties on Rogue One. The Admiral, Grand Admiral Sloane, had let enough slip for him to guess how much the Empire had wanted Rogue One dead.

They'd never managed it. 

It's hard to find out details but he's not being paid to take stupid chances.

Too many hunters haven't come back from trying to cash in those bounties. 

He hesitates on the edges of the market where the remaining stalls are empty and what goods remain are locked away. There are a few drunks and the inevitable busy bodies hanging around. He skulks past them, keeping his hood up and circles the fringes of the market.

There's no sign of the droid at least. He's heard horror stories about that droid from various hunters stupid enough to take one of the various bounties the Empire tried to slap on Erso. He's heard it's programming ascribed to a hundred different Imperial programmers and he knows that two were executed for it. Karking thing should have had its own bounty. 

The ship is tucked away between some ragged trees and some older mining trucks. He goes past it twice before he realizes it's the ship he wants. He takes a moment to assess it. Looks like an older freighter, decent shape. A thousand ships like it in every space-port in the Galaxy. It takes a keen eye to see the additional armour plates and the well-maintained blasters. He doesn't see the small red Rebel symbols until he's standing in the sights of both the main guns. He's careful about picking the lock.

There's no sign of an attack when he gets the hatch open and looks around. The weapons are gone. There's nothing valuable that he can see left out. There's nothing to betray who this ship belongs to either. He wouldn't know if his client hadn't been very specific. He finds a small box of medals in the small mess. The small chromium medal on the top has the Rebel starbird picked out in glossy red. There's only ten of those medals in the whole Galaxy. Half of them went to Rogue One. He counts two in the box. 

He puts the medals back carefully and checks the nav-com, memorizing the last three destinations. He puts everything back where he found it before he goes. He leaves a tracker just inside the ramp and clips another to the nav-com. Erso's smart and Andor knows how to disappear. He wants a way to find them that doesn't go through his employer.

He checks everything he can without giving away that he's been there but there's no clue on where they've gone. He's hoping they haven't just abandoned the ship. They shouldn't know they're being watched. The new Republic wants Erso out in front of the holo-news cameras. The Rebellion's General and all that.

He leaves as quietly as he came, creeping back to his own ship under the cover of darkness. He's barely got the ramp up behind him before his comm goes. He curses but thumbs the button. It doesn't do to keep this client waiting.

"I trust I find you hard at work?"

"Yeah. I found their ship. No sign of the crew." Mercurial Swift scowls at the small blue figure in front of him. "No clue where they went."

"Abandoned?"

He manages not to wince away from the sharp tone. "No. I don't think so."

"How very interesting..."

* * *

Asajj barely has a chance to settle herself under the trees before the peaceful afternoon is broken by angry voices. She breathes deeply and releases as much of her irritation into the Force as she can. She is tired and under her robes, old scars ache with the promise of a miserable night. She is too old to be standing vigil with aspiring Knights but this ceremony was controversial enough.

Asajj thinks Leia will be a fine Jedi. She has her father's power, tempered by her mother's empathy.

The surviving Jedi are not so plentiful that they can reject such potential. Asajj has the rest of the Council's agreement that neither Leia nor Luke should be penalized for their parentage. 

She has been less successful in tempering the response to Anakin Skywalker's actual presence. Everyone is happy to talk about forgiveness and acceptance then find her afterwards to deliver a speech about old grudges. She opens her eyes, enough irritation lingering to make her snappish.

"Master Ventriss!" Master Vildadern storms off the path. Jyn Erso follows him, her Captain and Guardians shadowing her. All four of them thrum with intent and purpose. Master Vildadern is fury and outraged pride fizzing over a layer of genuine outrage. He might have escalated to violence but Ahsoka is keeping herself between him and General Erso.

"Master Vildadern," Asajj rises to her feet and inclines her head. "General Erso."

She does not acknowledge the others. Not yet. They are a step back. Whatever Erso is here to debate, she has her family's support. She knows enough to know when one of them speaks for them all. Ahsoka is hanging back as well, alert to the simmering potential of violence.

"What seems to be the trouble?"

"They have a child!" Master Vildadern makes a wild gesture. "A _Force-Sensitive_ child! An orphan from one of the Imperial worlds."

Asajj blinks. Erso folds her arms and lifts her chin. "I do not see the trouble..."

"Armitage is not an orphan. He is our child," Erso says before Master Vildadern can open his mouth. "The paperwork has already been signed and witnessed."

Master Vildadern spins to jab a finger in Erso's face and Asajj has to step in before either of the flint-eyed Guardians can. She puts a hand on Master Vildadern's arm and the other Jedi catches himself. His Presence in the Force resolves itself; the anger leaving a lingering heat as he releases most of it into the greater Force. Asajj holds his gaze until she is sure that he has control over himself.

Then she turns back to Erso.

"I was not aware you were looking into adoption, General Erso."

Erso's chin rises. "Armitage deserves security. And a family that loves him."

"He needs to be trained!" Master Vildadern snaps. "Solo said he was already using the Force!"

"To defend himself from his abuser," Erso says. Asajj risks a glance at Ahsoka who nods fractionally. She is a better judge of Erso who Asajj finds frustratingly opaque on a good day. "An emotional impulse."

"All the more reason for him to be trained!"

"Armitage does not want to be a Jedi," Erso's voice is as cold as empty space. "Surely that is what matters?"

"He is a child!" Master Vildadern turns to appeal to Asajj. "Barely old enough to know his name!"

"He is old enough to know that he doesn't want to be a Jedi," Captain Andor says mildly. His Presence seethes with emotion. None of it shows on his face.

"Does he have no other family?" Asajj asks.

"None living," Guardian Imwe says.

"You haven't looked!" Master Vildadern sputters. 

Asajj presses his arm back down. The storm of emotions rages through the Force so strongly, she is surprised the trees aren't shaking with it. Asajj still thinks she's missing something. Master Vildadern has had one Padawan in his career, has no intention of having another and mostly teaches the younglings who are about to become Padawans. He's not the last Master Asajj would have expected this passion from but he would be very far down that mental list.

"I think perhaps I need some more information-" Asajj starts. Master Vildadern pushes a jumbled impression through the Force and her voice fails her.

Master Vildadern had barely been a Knight when Darth Sidious issued Order 66. He had escaped through a mixture of good luck, being on a ship to the front lines when the order was issued, and Red. Master Croronn had escaped the firing squad of troopers with Red's aid and therefore been in position to intercept then-Knight Vildadern's ship before the troopers knew he was there. He never actually met Red, she doesn't think.

He doesn't realize what he's sensing from the child. 

"Where is the child?" Asajj demands.

"Playing with Ben," Guardian Imwe says placidly. "He has taken a shine to him."

The wording is ambiguous. Leia's child by Solo is an enigma. He's powerful in the Force but he doesn't seem comfortable around Force-Users. Asajj has spoken with his adoring grandfather about him often enough to know that. Again, Ahsoka nods, arching her brows to express her own surprise.

Asajj turns to Erso who considers for a moment. She looks to Andor before she nods. Master Vildadern's rush of triumph doesn't show on his face but Guardian Malbus grips his blaster a little tighter all the same. Asajj is already extending her senses. She finds Ben easily; a turbulent Presence burning with all the emotions that the Jedi around him suppress. The Presence beside him...it doesn't shine. Asajj might not even have noticed it if Ben had not been so close.

If the Presence of living things glow and the Presence of Force-sensitive beings shine, this Presence is a sparkling refraction of the Force around it.

Trying to understand it through her Force senses feels like trying to lick a holographic image. Asajj can understand why Master Vildadern was struck by this Presence. It's hard to make sense of even when you know what to look for. Asajj didn't know how to look for it the first few times she ran across Red. She had thought it a modification to the clone template. A Force-hound, intended to bring down Force-users? She had feared the Jedi then and it had seemed plausible. As plausible as any theory about Red. It remains her greatest regret that neither Master Kenobi nor Master Yoda had made it to the First Temple to be questioned.

She strides out of the sheltered clearing with Master Vildadern and Erso barely a step behind. She can hear voices and Ben's giggles sound delighted. She rounds the trees to see General Calrissian, cape hanging from one of the trees, hunkered down by a mud puddle with two small boys. Erso's droid is constructing a small building out of twigs adjacent to the puddle while Luke's astromech offers advice and a running commentary in Binary that makes Asajj hope the boys don't understand Binary. Leia's protocol droid is fussing around the edges.

"General Calrissian," Asajj says politely and the man looks up at them with an easy smile.

"Masters," he says. Ben doesn't look up but the other boy goes still and looks up at them. Erso's droid ceases activity and focuses on Asajj. She studies the boy and is studied in turn. It is unusual. He can be only a couple of years older than Ben but he watches her with serious eyes that look too old for his face.

"I am Master Ventriss," she says. He nods slightly, expression unchanging. "What is your name?"

"Armitage," the boy says. His accent is half-Imperial, half-something else. She can't match it to her memories exactly but it does sound something like Red's. She thinks it does. "Armitage Hux."

The family name is right. Asajj reaches through the Force but she might as well have tried to catch a handful of morning mist. The boy, Armitage, definitely feels it. His eyes go wide and he steps back sharply. Erso moves between them in the same breath and Armitage hides behind her legs.

"What did you do?" Erso's hand finds the boy's shoulder.

"I reached out to him through the Force," Asajj says, distracted by the way Armitage's Presence changes. It's a shadow, a ripple through the Force. She's reminded of nighthunters and their shadowy camouflage. He's hiding from her. It's beyond bizarre. She wouldn't have thought him anything but human from his physical appearance.

"Was that necessary?" Erso's tone is chilly.

"If Armitage is Force-Sensitive, we must know to be able to support him," Asajj turns to Master Vildadern. "Master Koon should be nearby. Would you ask him to join us?"

"Of course, Master Ventriss," Master Vildadern sweeps away.

General Calrissian has hold of Ben who is frowning at her. "Tige okay?"

"I'm fine, Ben," Armitage's voice wavers and Erso's crew closes ranks around him. General Calrissian rises to his feet, eyes flicking back and forth. With the Guardians on either side of him, Armitage's Presence is almost impossible to detect. Asajj is fascinated. The Presence is not precisely like Red's, like the original Hux's, lacking the sharp sense of purpose but it is familiar enough that there must be some relation.

Armitage is enough like the original Red that she is certain cloning must have been involved but she cannot imagine how the first Red was created or why. Asajj wishes they had been able to reach out to the engineers of Kamino before Sidious destroyed them for defying him. Had one of their pods survived? Armitage might have been kept in stasis, she supposes. Ahsoka is peering past Armitage's new family, openly fascinated. A potential weapon for when Sidious turned on them? Not all of the Kaminian scientists could have been in ignorance of their real client surely?

And most of all, she wonders as she looks down at the boy, are there others still out there?

* * *

Jhivia Dourkott checks the barrel of her rifle and puts it back into the case. She hasn't used this rifle for nearly three years and she's reluctant to do so but a promise is a promise. She closes the case and sighs. She feels old and tired and she wants nothing more than to leave this case stowed under her bunk. The bounties have been good, the New Republic is full of wronged people and families willing to pay to see their former tormentors brought back to face justice.

Jhivia has no love for the Empire. 

She takes no joy in its fall either. Her planet is still ravaged. Her clan is still scattered. Her sons are still dead. Her daughter is still searching for her daughter amid the wreckage. She breathes in and holds the air in her lungs for a couple of seconds. Keth is alive. That's what's important. That's what matters.

" _You said you were done with assassinations,_ " Ruawuarr moves quietly for such a big Wookie.

"I am." Jhivia reaches for her helmet reflexively. She drums her fingertips against the curve of it before she can catch herself. She doesn't look around for a long minute. She should have waited until Ruawuarr actually left but she's tired of watching the calendar.

" _But you've taken a contract,_ " Ruamuarr folds her arms. She's loved Jhivia too long not to know the signs. Jhivia is only surprised that it's taken this long for Ruawuarr to call her on it. " _You turned down those bounties for this?_ "

"Yes," Jhivia admits. Her hand hovers over the data-pad on her bunk. "Technically, this was commissioned before I stopped taking those contracts."

" _Explain,_ " Ruawuarr tilts her head. She's still angry.

"My ...client was very specific," Jhivia thumbs the display on. "Ten targets. If they hadn't been arrested by the New Republic. If they hadn't found alternative career paths."

" _Why not just get the New Republic to arrest them?_ "

"I thought about it."

" _But?_ "

"But, they're minor functionaries," Jhivia sighs. "Scientists. I think they'd still be puttering away in their labs if the mobs hadn't burned them down."

" _If they are so inoffensive, why does someone want them dead so badly that they recruit a Mandalorian?_ "

"I don't know," Jhivia admits. "But there must be something."

Ruawaurr breathes in through her nose. Jhivia looks down at the datapad. She wonders what Ruawuarr gets from her scent.

"He paid. Full price for each of them."

" _Who is this 'he'?_ " Ruawuarr's claws extend before she catches herself. " _You were done with this type of work!_ "

Jhivia hesitates. This is the part that has her twisting like a fish on a hook. It's taken a decade to get Ruawuarr comfortable with bounty hunting. Her love has no tolerance for assassination and honestly, she's convinced Jhivia to get out of the assassin business. This is different. She just doesn't know how to phrase it so Ruawuarr doesn't think she's lost her mind. If it was just the money, Jhivia probably would have just walked away.

"He was ...useful to me," she says. "During the Purge."

Ruawuarr softens, arms unfolding and Jhivia swallows. She wants her helmet so sharply that she can't breathe through it for a second. It's a stupid impulse; Ruawaurr and she have shed too much blood together. Her love has seen her ruined and weeping over two ingots that had been her grandfather's armour. This is nothing compared to those desperate days. Ruawaurr wraps those long, warm arms around her and Jhivia clears her throat.

"I told you that the Rebels found Keth for me," she says at last. 

" _And we are all grateful that they did,_ " Ruawuarr says. 

"You never asked how I found them," Jhivia says. It isn't fair to say it like that. Ruawuarr never made any secret of her allegiance. They never formally discussed it; the Guild is neutral and Ruawuarr was scrupulous about keeping her work with Jhivia separate from her work with the Rebellion. Jhivia's always felt a little guilty. She still doesn't know what she'd have done if anything had happened to her Wookie wife while she was away with her Mandalorian husband.

" _You are an intelligent woman,_ " Ruawuarr says kindly, " _and a good bounty hunter. If you wanted to find them, I knew you would find them._ "

"You're giving me too much credit," Jhivia says. "Probably. I didn't have to look. He found me before I'd even had a chance to think of looking for Rebel agents. He did that a lot, I think."

Ruawuarr trills softly.

"That's what the stories say," Jhivia leans into Ruawuarr. "He was looking for an assassin. He found me. I told him I had bigger concerns. I didn't have to say anything else. A Mandalorian in the Ispar system? There were only two reasons I could be there. He gambled I wasn't there to lick the Empire's boots. Maybe he knew I wasn't. He told me there might be information. I told him I'd be there for the next day. He found me that evening. Wouldn't take a credit for the information. He wanted to hire me instead."

" _You feel you owe him a debt,_ " Ruawaurr says neutrally.

"I know I owe him a debt," Jhivia says. "And I took the contract."

" _You're still conflicted,_ " Ruawaurr says.

"Not really," Jhivia tilts her head. "I just don't know what these people did or why I had to wait three years to fulfil the contracts."

" _Scientists, you said?_ "

"Yes," Jhivia finds the datapad. "Nothing messy, that I can see. They didn't develop weapons or biological agents. They were working on civic projects."

Ruawuarr takes the datapad and glances at it. " _Could it have been personal?_ "

"I can't see how," Jhivia leans into her. "What would Red have to do with minor Imperial scientists?"

Ruawuarr stiffens, lips pulling back from her teeth and she focuses on the datapad. Jhivia follows her gaze. It's just the files, updated thanks to some old friends willing to earn some credits by poking around in the backwater little worlds where her prey have hidden themselves.

" _They all worked on this project,_ " Ruawuarr says after a minute.

"Project Celestial Power, yes." Jhivia shakes her head. "A sustainable energy project. One of the Emperor's sops to the planets who suffered in the Clone Wars."

" _I think it must have been something more,_ " Ruarwaurr growls low in her throat. " _I will ask Drarwweeodrr after we have finished the job._ "

She hugs Jhivia tight for a second before she lets go.

" _You're starting with Elho Marn? That's going to be Conit-14, about two hours away. I'll set the coordinates._ "

"You don't have to come," Jhivia says stupidly. She feels like she just took a blaster round to the helmet. "Drarwweeodrr is expecting you back on Kashyyyk!"

" _He will understand,_ " Rauwaurr says firmly. " _You were right. This job is important._ "

She leaves Jhivia gaping after her as she lopes back towards the cockpit. Jhivia doesn't realize that Rauwaurr's taken the datapad until she goes to check it. She stares down at the case for a long minute before she curses. She still doesn't know what these scientists have done to warrant such a price but she's starting to think they deserve it. She dons her helmet and shoulders the case. If they're quick, this shouldn't take more than a couple of days.

* * *

"We will take a short recess," Senator Pordraid's protocol droid intones. "Refreshments are available."

_Thank the Force,_ Padmé manages a polite smile to the Senators in the seats beside her as she rises to her feet. Her head is aching and her throat is dry. She leaves Senator Shidbaupps to handle the niceties with only the barest flicker guilt. She isn't a Senator. She has done her time in committees and sub-committees.

Her current position is...ambiguous.

Naboo's old Queen had passed the act making Padmé Dowager Queen just weeks before she gave up the throne herself. Padmé's understanding had been that it was an empty title, her home world's way of granting her a private abode where off-worlders wouldn't easily find her or her family. She had been looking forward to retirement. Nearly three decades of war, the long struggle against the Empire and Ani's miraculous return had exhausted her. Surely she had earned a quiet life with her beloved and her children.

Padmé thinks retirement would be lovely. In theory.

In practice, she's seen too much of post-Imperial politics. The Senate has always been somewhat insulated from the Galaxy it serves. The fall of the Empire has either unseated or inconvenienced every Senator. Many are scrambling to salvage their careers and reputations after Palpatine's fall. The new Senators, elected or chosen in the wake of the Empire, are looking to purge the corruption that let Palpatine seize power. Those that aren't looking to settle some ugly scores of their own.

Padmé might have left the Senate to tear itself apart and rebuild if Mon Mothma hadn't been caught in the middle of it. Padmé has fought alongside Mon for longer than the Empire existed and she trusts the new Chancellor's morals and her skills. Mon wants peace and Padmé admires that. It puts her friend in the firing line from both sides of the divided Senate. Mon's pacificism weakens her position and she needs a less ambiguous figurehead to support her.

Padmé is the only real option. The Jedi are determined not to repeat the mistakes of the past and Ventriss has put deliberate distance between the Order and the Senate. The Jedi will serve the Republic, she has promised, but they will not be the Senate's puppets. That rules out her children and Padmé is fiercely glad of it. Han wants no part of politics, to the point of formally resigning his commission.

Rogue One would have been perfect but Jyn Erso refused point-blank. She hadn't resigned her commission, nor had Captain Andor but the one attempt Padmé had made to recruit her for Mon had left them both shredded and grieving.

She can still see the look in Jyn's eyes when the General told Padmé that she'd done what Padmé wanted once before.

" _I don't regret saving your son,_ " Jyn had said bluntly. " _I don't even regret saving your husband. But we both know what that mission cost us. I won't sacrifice any more of my family for your plans, Lady Amidala. The answer is no._ "

Padmé could have said that it was Hux's choice. She could have said that she didn't know he wouldn't come back. She hadn't said anything. She had let Jyn walk away without saying anything. She had gone to the small Temple, already alive with young voices and serious-faced Padawans, and spent an hour sitting in front of the memorial. This one hadn't been Ani's work. Ahsoka had copied his idea and it pains Padmé that so many of the faces she sees in the shifting patterns of light are strangers to her.

Many are not, of course. Ahsoka's memory of Hux is closer to her memories of Rex; a dear friend who was an elder brother to her. The image in the light is of his faint smile, the quiet amusement that Padmé saw only rarely and in the happy times.

Padmé pauses in one of the little alcoves to breathe for a moment. 

"Lady Amidala?" The voice that speaks to her is passingly familiar but Padmé doesn't immediately recognize the woman who looks at her. "Oh, it is you!"

"Senator Sindian," Padmé remembers just in time to be polite.

"Are you well?" Carise Sindian is immaculately dressed in the fashion of her homeworld. The lingering Imperial influences can still be seen. She's brave to be here with Arkanis still under siege by New Republic forces.

"Fine, I thank you," Padmé forces a smile. "I did not realize you had business here today?"

"Well, nothing too taxing," Sindian's smile is thin. "I hope to speak with the Chancellor regarding the liberation of my home planet."

"A joyous occasion surely," Padmé says and Sindian's smile doesn't reach her eyes.

"Of course, but you know how armies are. There has been looting, fighting in the streets, the usual mess."

"How terrible," Padmé says sincerely.

"I intend to ask the Chancellor's approval to stop it," Sindian says, waving a hand. "I don't see either of your lovely children. Are they not with you?"

"Leia has her Trials," Padmé says.

"Oh, how very daring!" Sindian presses her fingers to her mouth. "Have you seen the intelligence briefings?"

"Which ones?"

"Oh, my dear!" Sindian leans in. "The hunt for the Grand Admiral!"

"Sloane?"

"Rax, my dear!" Sindian says with a ghoulish kind of relish. "Gallius Rax!"

"Rax?" Padmé shakes her head. Sloane. She'd known Sloane and thanked the Force on a near daily basis that Palpatine's pride kept him from giving the woman any real power. A free hand and she might well have won the war for him before the Alliance could truly form. She'd vanished under mysterious circumstances just before the Alliance sent Cassian after Jyn and none of her agents had been able to tell her what had happened.

Gial believed it was Palpatine culling his potential rivals. Mon Mothma blamed the other Grand Admirals. Padmé has never been sure.

She's never heard of Rax.

Sindian must see it in her eyes because the other woman's eyes gleam and she reaches for Padmé's arm. "Well, it seems the Chancellor has been neglecting you! Come, let me show you the files!"

Padmé inclines her head and very firmly swallows the urge to knock the other woman's arm away.

* * *

Plo Koon is walking through the forest with his hands clasped behind him. His eyes are closed but the Force is strong here. His senses still guide him easily past roots and stones. He feels Qui-Gon's Presence but his old friend does not seem eager to manifest for him. Plo's grief is a familiar weight and he is grateful that his fellows are gracious enough not to insist he stay.

The Jedi Order is growing by the day. It will be the work of generations to rebuild and Plo is selfishly glad that his own part is nearly done.

He feels every cycle of his age and the relief and triumph of the Empire's fall has faded. It is harder in some ways to be back amid the Galaxy proper. Every planet he visits is haunted by his memories of better days. Plo still expects to hear word of his peers, all now long dead, every time messages come to the communications tower. He had been awaiting Leia's return when he caught himself planning to take some cuttings from these forests for Qui-Gon's little garden.

That garden is dust. If it is not worse than dust.

Plo has not been back to Coruscant and he does not intend to return. He has seen the holo-vid footage recorded by the Jedi who did accompany the New Republic leadership. Sidious' greed and corruption have polluted the Temple. Plo had watched only long enough to see the entry hall before he had excused himself. The Temple is a tomb to him and Sidious desecrated it with his evil. Plo has so many happy memories from the Temple and he wants to preserve them.

Master Ventriss is merciful. She believes that the Council must reclaim the Temple but she has been kind enough to delay it while the Temple is purified.

"Master Koon!" Master Vildadern's excitement jars him back to the present moment. "Master Ventriss wants you!"

"For what?"

"There's a child," Master Vildadern's nervous energy makes it difficult to glean anything from his Presence. "Force-Sensitive. Master Ventriss wants your counsel."

"Lead the way," Plo tucks his hands into his sleeves. He cannot imagine why Master Ventriss wants his opinion on a child. Plo is too old, too weary, to take a Padawan. He teaches the younglings once a week as Master Yoda had once taught him. It is rewarding but Plo does not think he can muster the optimism required to properly train a Jedi Knight.

He is surprised to find Master Ventriss in a clearing, drawn upright and imposing while Jyn Erso and her ragged little family face her with the resolve that brought Palpatine's armies to their knees singing through the Force. General Calrissian is standing to the side with Ahsoka, Ben Organa perched on his hip and peering suspiciously between the two sides. Plo can feel Qui-Gon's Presence so clearly that he half-expects to see his friend standing in the middle of this tension, soothing voice setting them on a more peaceful path.

Plo is not a diplomat. He looks to Master Ventriss. "You wanted to see me, Master Ventriss?"

"Master Plo," Master Ventriss turns to look at him. "I did. Master Vildadern has encountered a boy. He believes this boy is Force-Sensitive and in need of training."

"Surely he would know," Plo looks around the clearing. He can sense Master Ventriss, Vildadern, Ahsoka and, of course, Ben who is seething like a boiling spring. Jyn Erso and her family are brighter than mundane beings but significantly dimmer than the Jedi. He doesn't see any- His breath catches.

There is another. Hidden behind the unity of Rogue One, the Presence of the other is almost invisible. Plo clears his throat. Jyn Erso's hand hovers by the blaster holstered at her hip. He does not know what she sees in his expression but it feels like it takes an eternity before she relaxes. She turns to look behind her. "Armitage, this is Master Plo. He wants to talk to you."

The name vibrates in Plo's ears. Rare among humans, he thinks. Certainly he has never heard it used outside of Qui-Gon's old stories. He thinks he hears his old friend's chuckle as the boy hiding in her shadow peers out at him. He lowers himself to a knee, old joints creaking uncomfortably.

"My name is Plo Koon," he says gravely.

The boy peeks at him, looking up at Jyn before he edges out of her shadow. He keeps hold of her hand and keeps stealing worried glances back at her. Jyn smiles and follows his slow steps forward. The boy is so small; even on his knees, Plo can look down on him. He is too pale for good health, eyes too large for his face and shaking a little as he approaches. Plo has to work to keep his expression gentle. 

"It is nice to meet you, Master Koon. I'm Armitage," the boy says and looks up at Jyn. "Armitage Hux."

Plo's breath freezes in his chest. His eyes linger on that red hair, blonder than the hair he remembers but those eyes...he remembers the last moments of the Republic. A desperate fear under the confident words. Every second of that conversation is seared into his memories. He reaches out a hand.

"It is very good to meet you, Armitage," he says and is proud that his words are steady. "I am told that you are Force-Sensitive."

Armitage bites his lip, hand tightening on Jyn's. He peers up at Plo from under his hair but he doesn't answer.

"May I test to see if that is true?"

Another pause and Armitage looks up at Jyn. His shadowed Presence glows a little brighter when she edges a little closer. Armitage sucks at his lip for a moment before he looks up at Plo. "You were in my dreams."

"Was I?"

"Uh-huh," Armitage nods. "You were in a fighter. There was lots of fighting. You got shot and you crashed into a bridge!"

"I used to be a pilot," Plo manages. "Perhaps that is what you were dreaming of."

"I don't like those dreams," Armitage says slowly, watching Jyn out of the corner of his eyes like he's expecting her to scold him. "They make me sad."

"They sound like very scary dreams," Plo agrees. "I would be sad after such dreams."

"Can you make them stop?"

"I don't know," Plo says and Armitage considers him. "It might be that your dreams are visions from the Force. I might be able to assist you but I will need to probe your mind."

"Will it hurt?"

"No," Plo says and Armitage bites his lip again. He puts a small hand in Plo's outstretched hand. "This should be painless."

"Okay."

The expression on Jyn Erso's face when Armitage looks away is grim. Plo closes his eyes and reaches out through the Force. It is difficult; Armitage's Presence does not reach back as Ahsoka's had so long ago. Plo restrains his own Presence, extending his awareness as slowly as he can. Armitage's fear is a flicker through the greater nebula of his Presence but there is a familiar will, solid as the ground under them, that doesn't flinch from him.

Plo struggles to find any point to connect to the elusive Presence swirling around him. He feels like he's a youngling fumbling to touch the Force consciously. Armitage's Presence is like nothing Plo has ever experienced and he pushes a little harder than he meant.

There's a flash, an instant of connection like a lightning bolt, and Plo sees-

_-there's a child laughing. A girl. He doesn't look up. He can hear other children. The fountains are surrounded by children and older folk. Cheerful voices almost drown out the music of the birds. The sun is shining. The gardens are green and filled with flowers. It's beautiful. He can feel the scream lodged in his throat._

_He can't breathe past the approaching sense of Tarkin's poisonous triumph. He can feel the Darkness of Vader like a gathering storm, all the sullen rage and petulance like a nightmare that he can't wake from. He can feel the Princess, the connection between them lodged like a barb in his heart, stabbing deeper with every beat. He stares down at the flagstones under his boots. Old, worn by thousands of feet over Alderaan's long centuries. No more. His feet are the last. He stares at the dust on the polished leather and tastes blood where he's bitten through his lip._

_Tarkin's exultant spite sticks in his throat. He closes his eyes. It will be quicker than a blaster, he thinks, then there is a scream as from the planet and the air boils in his lungs as the world explodes around him-_

Plo is thrown back, staggered under the weight of that despair and the guilt that clings like refined fighter fuel. His senses are suddenly choked by Darkness and he sees a figure towering over him, a sputtering lightsabre in hand that burns like the fires of Mustafar.

" _Leave. Him. Alone._ " the figure's voice is a shriek of static and hate. Plo is hurled back, out of Armitage's mind and he crashes back into his body as it hits the ground.

* * *

Shara had gotten rid of her emergency bottle of Calamari port approximately three minutes after Poe had learned how to walk. She honestly hasn't missed it until right now. She peers at her co-pilot out of the corner of her eye as she sets the coordinates and the hyperdrive hums to life behind her. She's known Bodhi Rook since Yavin, part of the ragged squadron that took on the 'Rogue' name.

She's seen him in the worst times, when the Empire seemed to be less than a step behind them. There was a mission to one of the prison worlds...Shara had drunk herself into oblivion for nearly a week before she could sleep without seeing those horrors behind her eyelids. She didn't think Bodhi had slept without help for another week after that. She knows what he looks like when he's on the verge of breaking.

That's not this.

He looks more like Kes had in those last few weeks when Shara was one step from grabbing a vibro-blade and just getting the damn pregnancy over with. Petrified and almost out of his mind with joy at the same time.

Bodhi looks more haunted than Kes had. Force knows he's got reason, she admits.

"So," Shara pretends not to see how he startles at the sound of her voice. "Congratulations?"

"Thank you," Bodhi says.

"How did this happen?" Shara asks. "How did you guys even know Red _had_ a son out there?"

Bodhi snorts and jumps a little like he's surprised himself. "He didn't."

"My eyes are working just fine, Rook," Shara says pointedly. "That kid is the karking image of him! I thought he might be a...Wait, is he a _clone_?"

Bodhi bites his lip. He's a cruddy sabacc player and Shara can actually see him trying to decide what lie he's going to tell her. Shara turns in her seat and just looks at him. It wouldn't work on Jyn. Cassian would enjoy the staring match and come up with a string of implausible stories until she'd forgotten what she was going to say. The Guardians would just not say anything. 

"He's not!" Bodhi crumbles like Shara's mother's sponge under her steady gaze. "He's not a clone. He's not Hux's son."

"Bantha-shit."

"He's not!"

"I worked with Master Jinn," Shara says. "I saw Red up close. That kid's the image of him."

Bodhi's gaze slides away from her.

"What? What am I missing here?" Shara leans forward to put a hand on his leg. "Come on, Rook. You know you can trust me."

"You can't tell anyone," Bodhi starts after visibly wrestling with himself for another minute. He looks deadly serious. "They wouldn't believe you but you can't tell them."

"Tell them what?"

"Armitage isn't Hux's son," Bodhi says reluctantly. Shara opens her mouth and Bodhi cuts her off. "He _is_ Hux."

"You're kidding!" Shara sits back. Bodhi doesn't look like he's joking. Her first thought is that it's impossible. Her second is...well, her second is a memory of sitting in this very cockpit, nearly a whole decade ago, when Master Jinn was the one sitting in the other seat. She doesn't remember which mission it was. One of the ones that would have been a disaster if Hux hadn't shown up.

He never spoke to them. It couldn't have been the first mission. Shara knows it took a couple of missions for her to notice the almost-Imperial officer who always happened to be in the right place at the right time. She'd asked Master Jinn about him. Master Jinn had said he was a friend of the Jedi.

" _A better friend than we knew,_ " Master Jinn had said with a sombre expression. " _He paid a heavy price to help us. I wish that I could have shared that burden but the Force moves in ways that are mysterious even to the Jedi._ "

There's as many stories about Red as there are stars in the Galaxy, Shara knows. Most of them aren't worth the breath spent telling them. The ones that are true are impossible.

"Huh," she says.

"You can't tell anyone," Bodhi says again. He looks utterly serious.

"Hux was a hero," Shara says.

" _Red_ was a hero," Bodhi's lips press tightly together. "To the Rebellion."

Shara closes her mouth on the first two answers she thinks of for that. She thinks of Xan and the newly returned Jedi. She thinks of the endless list of Imperial officers who haven't surrendered or turned up dead. She thinks of Vader, of the Inquisitors and all the petty little monsters. Then she thinks of the kid. He must be Poe's age at most. Five years old? 

"The New Republic wants Jyn to be their figurehead," Bodhi says. "All of us but her most of all. There's nowhere we can stay that they won't start showing up. We had a little farm on this world, twenty klicks out from the nearest town. We got three months of peace. Then the Senators' aides started showing up. Half of them brought holo-news reporters."

"I heard some of that," Shara remembers. She'd been quietly furious. Kes had spent the night pacing back and forth and complaining about karking politicians. He'd only stopped when Poe asked what a nerf-fucker was.

"Being Red was hard," Bodhi says, staring down at his hands. "The whole war. He was so tired at the end of it, you know?"

"Yeah."

"I remember thinking that we'd have to just keep him after...after the Death Star." Bodhi scrubs at his face. "He was so tired. You could see it. We didn't realize he was done but we knew he couldn't do much more. Being Red killed him in the end. Kay did the calculations, you know? He died thousands of times. He did all that the stupid karking Force asked of him and it doesn't-it doesn't get to ask for more!"

Shara lets that sit for a second.

"It's why the Jedi can't take him," Bodhi says fiercely. "We didn't get a chance to talk about it really. There wasn't time."

"Do your lot even need words these days?" Shara smiles and is relieved when Bodhi smiles back, a brief flash of teeth.

"No," Bodhi says. "The Jedi would want to know how he came back and why he came back. He'd be Red before they got him into a youngling's uniform. That's not fair. Red saved us all. It's not fair to put that sort of expectation on a kid."

"No, it isn't," Shara nods. She can't see that ending well for anyone and the kid she'd seen looked like he'd been chewed up by life enough already, even without the whole Red thing.

"He deserves to be happy," Bodhi looks determined. "He deserves to live his life in peace this time."

He doesn't say anything else for the rest of the hyperspace jump. Shara doesn't press him. She's thinking. Bodhi's clearly feeling pretty strongly about this. The Jedi Order might have objections but she doesn't think they're getting anywhere near the kid. She's feeling pretty good about signing those forms; whatever else happens, that kid is going to be loved.

Shara wants to talk to Kes, she thinks. She wants to see Poe, who must be at least four centimetres taller since she's seen him last. She pauses at that thought and considers for a moment. 

"You said that you were finding it hard to find somewhere to live," she says as the nav-com whistles an alert.

"Uh-huh?"

"Come to Yavin," Shara says. "We're far enough out that we don't get bothered much and the forests are thick enough that you could hide from anyone who wasn't expected."

Bodhi blinks and half-shakes his head.

"It would be good for him," Shara says gently. "To be around children his own age who've never even heard the name 'Red'."

Bodhi hesitates.

"No pressure," Shara assures him. "But you need somewhere safe to let him grow up."

Bodhi frowns. "I'll ask."

"Good," Shara says and they come out of hyperspace just short of the planet. She takes the controls and puts them down right beside the ship they're here to collect. Bodhi inspects the ship twice, frowning slightly but he waves off Shara's questions.

"We must have left it like this," Bodhi says. He doesn't sound sure but the engines fire up on the first try and everything looks good from where Shara's sitting.

"Let's get back," Shara says over the comms and Bodhi follows her up out of atmosphere. They go into hyperspace together without any problems and Shara takes the time to compose a message to Kes. She has to scrap the first three drafts. There's too much information she doesn't want written down but Kes knows her too well to get away with writing nothing. Finally, Shara writes a quick note, saying Rogue One have acquired a Rogue 1.1 and she's invited them to Yavin to escape the politicians. She sets it to send as soon as they come out of hyperspace and sits back in her seat.

* * *

Anakin is hovering. He's aware that he's hovering but he can't help it. His parental instincts are still new and it takes a lot to not rush forward. He doesn't but he paces back and forth, all the nervous energy buzzing through him in search of an outlet. He wishes Padmé was here. She's so much better with their children. Anakin doesn't resent her for that. It would be childish. Stupid.

No, he can't think like that. Anakin has a lot to answer for with both of them and the only way he can do that is by making the effort. It's hard when he's bursting at the seams with pride. Luke has Padmé's patience and serenity but Anakin sees himself in Leia's fearless determination and endless courage. She has his temper but Padmé's kind heart to balance it. He remembers her from the dark days of Empire as a spitfire amid the tame Banthas of the Senate.

She's going to make an excellent Jedi.

He wishes Ahsoka was here. None of the other Jedi who have remained are friends. Most of them were barely more than padawans when the Empire rose. He barely knew them before his own ignominious fall to the Dark. They don't trust him. It hurts. He can't blame them. If Sidious had corrupted another, Anakin would have hated them. Obi-Wan would have disapproved and Master Qui-gon would have been disappointed in him.

He pauses under the tree. Leia's still leaning into her husband and Luke is waving his hands as he talks about his own Trials. Solo is making some smart remark but most of his attention is on Leia. Anakin doesn't care for the fool but his opinion doesn't count. Solo does genuinely love his daughter which is all that Anakin can ask of him. Padmé has told him so. Repeatedly. Anakin wishes he could have asked Hux for his advice.

He's mostly over the paralysing grief but moments like this still leave him swallowing down tears. He can almost see Hux's quietly horrified expression at being asked to deal with emotions. Padmé says that Hux approved of Solo. Anakin can't see it. Solo's got a fast mouth and a bad attitude. He must have gotten right under Hux's skin.

"So, what? They tryin' to scare ya to death?" Solo huffs. "Some Trials."

"It's just visions," Luke says earnestly.

"What, like a dream?" Solo's arm tightens around Leia.

"Well..." Luke bites his lip. Anakin wants to say something reassuring but the visions that come during the Trials are mysterious. 

So he's been told, by those that faced them. He never faced them himself; fighting Dooku even as disastrously as he had had been enough. Maybe he should have but Anakin had been an angry young man, clinging to his loved ones in the face of death and war. He hadn't wanted to see the truth and he can't imagine what possible vision the Force could have sent him that would have made him see the truth. Even Master Yoda had failed to reach him. What could the Force have done?

The sudden surge of terror hits him like a tidal wave. Anakin staggers, the vision that crashes into him sends him spinning into chaos.

The fear and grief that swamp him are too overwhelming. Anakin staggers and suddenly, he's standing in a nightmare; burning shapes that might be TIE fighters and shattered marble floors that reflect the flames. The air is thick with smoke and pain. There are muffled cries in the distance. Nothing is stable. Nothing is solid. The backdrop flickers and shifts at the corners of his vision. He spins on his heel but he's alone.

Anakin chokes on his own terror. Everywhere he turns, there is fire and Darkness. He can almost hear Palpatine's deranged cackling in the distance. It could be any one of a thousand worlds where he brought Sidious' terror and pain to innocent beings. It could be Mustafar, where Anakin's pride and temper cost him everything. He's not a Jedi. He's not a Sith.

He's a stupid little slave boy, running into trouble.

He staggers as the terror crests. It's not just his terror, Anakin realizes. It's Plo's. He reaches for his friend and the shadows and fire shift. Plo's Presence snags on the edges of Anakin's own terror and the older Jedi clings to him amid the terror and confusion. Anakin can feel something...Dark, his instincts scream but this is not the Dark that Sidious taught him to use. It's raw and furious in a way that makes him sick with dread.

He finds Plo, floundering in the tangle of emotions, and the vision around them shifts. They're standing in a sandy little settlement. Anakin sees stained white armour amid the dust. Plo pulls him back. Whatever is sending these visions is ahead. Anakin steps backwards, the vision shuddering around them. The vision blurs like a dream receding from a slow waking. The Dark doesn't want them there but it doesn't seem interested in pursuing them.

There's a flicker of familiarity and Anakin freezes. He feels a faint tug of recognition. The Dark gathers but Anakin thinks he sees-! A flash of colour. Familiar colour. He thinks of Cloud City. He takes a step forward and his foot lands on polished metal. The sound echoes around the narrow corridor. He can almost taste the lingering charge of lightsabres in the air. To his left, a painfully familiar strut hangs over the abyss below.

He feels the weight of his lightsabre in his hand. When he looks down, it's not Vader's 'sabre. It's the polished silver 'sabre that Obi-Wan had given him after his Knighting. The hand that holds it feels like flesh, not metal. He feels the respirator in his chest buzz as he inhales. It takes a second before he can turn to look to his right. This is a familiar memory. Anakin sees it in his nightmares and he wakes with tears on his cheeks every time.

He sees the flicker of colour; the shadow of Hux running from Sidious's puppet. Anakin lunges forward. It's not intentional. No thought involved. Hux is there. Anakin has to find him. He rounds the corner.

The lightsabre that slashes through the air is red, spitting sparks like a naked flame. Anakin feels the heat of it on his naked cheeks. He barely manages to stop before the lightsabre can connect. He stares across that shattered blade and sees a nightmare staring back. The mask is cracked and the ugly red-orange light that leaks from it matches the blazing sabre.

" _No more_ ," the voice is a static snarl. " _Leave. Him. ALONE!_ "

Anakin barely gets his 'sabre up in time. The force of the strike drives him back. The polished metal shatters. The air fills with smoke and the dark is only broken by distant flames. The vision twists, smears like wet blood but the masked figure keeps coming through the swirling madness. Anakin can hear the growl through the mask, static and something furious and fearful underneath.

" _NO MORE!_ " That awful 'sabre slashes through the air. Anakin falls back...

...and hits the ground. The clean, sweet air of the caves rushes into his lungs and Anakin blinks. He sees Luke and Leia bent over him.

"Father!"

"Are you alright!?"

Anakin gasps, the lingering burn of smoke in his lungs and the edges of his vision go dark.

* * *

The shuttle rattles and Admiral Screed glares at the stormtrooper who opens the hatch. The fool stutters and fumbles a salute. Screed rises to his feet and tugs his uniform straight. The trooper trips out of his way. The snivelling dolt who is acting as his adjunct fails to salute until Screed glares at him.

"We have arrived, sir!"

"Obviously, you fool!" Screed snaps.

"Your security detail is waiting for you, sir," the fool sputters.

Screed strides down the short corridor to the ramp where his 'troopers are waiting. In rank, praise the Emperor! He was starting to think he'd been cursed with complete incompetents. The ramp lowers and Screed takes a moment to let his eyes adjust to the bright light of the hanger. He steps forward and his detail falls in behind him. 

Looking around, Screed has to admit that the _Admonitor_ is a picture of Imperial discipline and order. There are neat lines of Stormtroopers arrayed in formal display. He has to hide his reaction to the Captain waiting for him at the edge of the ramp. It's testament to the poor state of the Galaxy that they're promoting Xeno officers. Still, Screed is a pragmatic man. 

Needs must.

He returns the salute crisply.

"This way, please, Admiral," the captain doesn't bother with any of the inane pleasantries. Screed nods approval. He makes note of the general discipline visible on the long route through the Star Destroyer and finds it passable. Here, there are no lapses of disciplines, no troopers in unpolished armour and no sign of neglect. He is almost impressed.

The bridge crew look up as he passes then immediately return their attention to their instruments. The captain leads him back to the office where a squad of Stormtroopers are standing at full attention. The captain hits the controls and takes a smart step to the side.

"Come," the voice that comes from the office rings like a parade-ground order. Screed's spine stiffens reflexively.

He draws himself up and steps through. The door swishes behind him and he counts to three before he presses his hand to his chest. He has to swallow his sneer when the reptile on the desk scrabbles away from him.

"Admiral Screed," the Grand Admiral says slowly. "I have been expecting you."

"Grand Admiral Thrawn," Screed inclines his head. The damned xeno doesn't stand but Screed ignores the disrespect. He draws the sealed communique from inside his coat. "I apologize for my ...brusque appearance but time is short and the New Republic have agents everywhere."

Grand Admiral Thrawn takes the communique and one eyebrow rises sharply when he sees the crest that seals it. His thumbprint unlocks the encryption and Screed stands at ease while the Grand Admiral scans the contents. He puts the data-crystal aside and nods to the chair.

"You'd better take a seat, Admiral. It seems we have much to talk about."

* * *

The sun is shining and there are fresh mayzanas on the trees. Outside the window, his papa's astromech is working on the engine of his ship. Poe sighs and his tutor droid beeps at him. It's such a nice day. Too nice to be stuck inside doing stupid sums! His tutor droid keeps beeping at him and his papa told him he has to do all his sums before he can go outside. It's not fair!

" _Please proceed to the next question._ "

"Stupid droid." Poe scowls at it. The droid beeps.

Poe is just finishing his sums when his papa comes looking for him. Poe rushes the last question and the stupid tutor droid beeps. He groans but when he looks up, his papa doesn't look cross. He's smiling but he looks worried too.

"There you are," he says.

"You tol' me to do sums!" Poe reminds him. "And I did!"

"So you did," his papa bends to pick him up. "Just in time. Your mamma will be home soon."

"She will!??"

His papa smiles. "She will."

"YAY!" Poe whoops and his papa winces.

"She's bringing some friends," he tells Poe like he told him about how mama was going away for a bit. 

"Friends of mama?"

"And papa," his papa says. "Friends from the Rebellion."

Poe claps his hands and kicks his feet before he remembers that his papa has an owie. His papa winces but he says that he's fine when Poe says that he's sorry. He carries Poe out to the landing pad behind their house. Poe peers up into the sky and gasps.

"Mama!"

"Good spotting," his papa says and Poe smiles at him. He waves up at his mama's ship as it comes down through the clouds. His mama's ship is the fastest ship in the whole Galaxy and it shines when it comes out of the clouds. Poe waves as hard as he can and his papa laughs. The air goes rushing past as his mama's ship touches down. There's a big clunk and the engines go quiet. The ramp comes down with a big thump and Poe wiggles until his papa puts him down and he runs for his mama.

"MAMAMAMAMAMAMAMA!"

"There's my buddy!" His mama sweeps him up into the air and Poe cheers.

"Mama!"

"Oh, I missed you!" Mama smells of stuffy air and fuel and she hugs Poe just as tight as she did before she left. "Have you been good?"

"I did all my sums!"

"That's my boy," Mama kisses him. Poe hears someone step onto the ramp. He peeks around his mama and sees a droid looking down at him. He gasps and his mama turns so he can see all the people coming down the ramp. There's a droid, two old men and two not-old men. Poe focuses on the lady. He knows that lady. She's in lots of the pictures around the house.

"Genereral!" he points excitedly.

"Yes," Mama says and kisses his cheek before she puts him down. She takes his hand. "Poe, this is Jyn."

"Hi!"

"Hello, Poe," Jyn has a nice smile. She half turns and Poe sees another boy is there, holding her hand. 

"Hi!" Poe's mama tugs his hand to keep him from running forward. "I'm Poe. Poe Dameron!"

The other boy looks up at Jyn then waves back. "It is nice to meet you, Poe Dameron. My name is Armitage."

"Arma-?"

Armitage sighs like Poe's papa does when Poe wants to stay up past his bedtime. "You can call me 'tidge. If you want to."

"Tidge," Poe tries. "Okay. Do you want to see the climbing tree?"

Tidge looks up at Jyn. Poe thinks she must be his mama but mostly he's thinking that Tidge doesn't look like a baby or one of the big boys. He looks like he's as big as Poe. Poe hasn't got any friends who are his age. He lets go of his mama's hand to grab Tidge's hand. Tidge looks down at his hand, then back up at his mama before he nods and lets Poe pull him away.

"I will accompany you," the droid says.

"That's Kay," Tidge says. "He's really good at climbing."

"Hi, Kay!" Poe smiles.

"We'll have dinner soon," Poe's papa calls. "Don't go too far."

"We won't!" Poe calls back. Tidge follows him back around the house.

"You don't have any Jedi around, do you?" Tidge asks.

"No," Poe laughs. "There aren't any Jedi on Yavin! My mama and papa have a friend who is a Jedi. His name is Luke and he has a sister who's going to be a Jedi. Her name is Princess Leia."

"Ben's mother is called Leia," Tidge says.

"Ben's just a baby," Poe says. "When they were here, he cried the whole time!"

"He's not a baby anymore," Tidge says and Poe huffs.

"He's not here either," he points at the tree. "That's my climbing tree!"

"It appears...stable," Kay says. "You could construct a platform there."

"We could build a TREEHOUSE!?" Poe stares up at him and Tidge giggles. "That'd be AWESOME!"

"Yeah," Tidge says when Poe looks at him. He smiles. "It would."


End file.
